


Love Me, Love My Cat

by Akumeoi



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cat!Noctis, Conflict Resolution, Dark World, Depression, Developing Relationship, Drama, Dreamsharing, Fade to Black, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Nyactis, Temporary Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:27:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26289481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Akumeoi/pseuds/Akumeoi
Summary: A year into the Dark World, Prompto finds a little black cat with striking blue eyes. When the cat sleeps in his bed, Prompto starts having dreams about Noctis - dreams where Noctis says that the cat is a vessel for his spirit as his body sleeps within the Crystal. Prompto begins to build a tentative romance with him in their shared dreams - but Ignis and Gladio are not convinced. Who is right? Is Noctis really there with them, or just a figment of Prompto's grief? Can they build a life together - and if they try, how long could it possibly last?[G rated version linked in author's notes]
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia & Ignis Scientia, Gladiolus Amicitia & Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum & Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 17
Kudos: 82
Collections: Promptis Big Bang 2020





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to Pika ([burbled-xv](https://burbled-xv.tumblr.com/)) for illustrating this fic. I love your art and I was so happy to have a chance to work with you. I'm just thrilled with the beautiful illustration you drew! (Readers can see Pika's illustration in part 3.) Thank you also to Mathclasswarfare and Crazyloststar for the beta help!
> 
> Warnings: Please do not take this fic as any kind of mental health advice, as I suspect some of what I wrote is dubious at best. Non-archive content warnings can be found in the author's note at the end of this chapter (spoilers).
> 
> [[If you'd like to read a General Audiences version of this work that contains all the cursing but limits physical affection to cuddling/hugging, hand holding, and cheek kisses, here is the G rated version.]](http://www.mediafire.com/file/lsrvs38cyqr9kti/Love_Me_Love_My_Cat_%2528G_rated%2529.pdf/file)

The first time they kiss, it’s in a dream. Prompto has tears on his face. Noctis is _there_ and it’s been almost a year and Noctis has never come to him like this in a dream before, so real and vivid and saying all the cute-funny-dumb things that only Noctis would say. Prompto throws himself into Noctis’s arms, and Noctis gives a little _oof_ of surprise when the air is knocked out of him.

Prompto kisses him, because if it’s a dream he can do anything he wants, right? Noctis is surprised by that, too, but his eyes close and his forehead gets a little divot in it as his eyebrows scrunch together and he kisses Prompto back, with all the passion Prompto expected a Noctis conjured by his imagination would use to kiss him.

When Prompto wakes up the next morning, the world is dark and there’s a small black cat curled up on the sleeping bag next to him, fast asleep.

Sitting up, Prompto lets out a sigh, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Nyactis,” he says to the cat, but the cat’s blue eyes don’t blink open until after Prompto has poked his pink paw pads a few times. Nyactis blinks balefully up at him, the irritation in his gaze so familiar that Prompto has to laugh. It’s the eyes that made him name the cat after Noctis. After getting to know Nyactis a little better, he thinks the attitude is pretty fitting too. And Nyactis does seem to love sleeping.

“Was last night even real?” he muses, scratching Nyactis behind the ears with one hand as he eats breakfast out of a camp tin with the other. “I pick up a stray cat on Monday-” he is gesturing with the fork “-and by Friday I’ve reunited with my best friend who was eaten by the Crystal, in a dream. _And,_ I finally know what the inside of his mouth tastes like. Romantic, right?” He chuckles. “Seems pretty unreal to me.”

Nyactis chirps, tail lashing in annoyance as if to say _I_ _’m right here, dude. Very real, actually._

“Well, I’m glad I have a cat now, anyway,” Prompto says, brushing toast crumbs from his lap and getting up to saddle the chocobo waiting beside the haven. He’s on a message run from Lestallum to Hammerhead since communications are down again. “And if we see any daemons, you claw their eyes out for me, okay?”

He would never admit it to Ignis, Gladio, or any of their military pals, but travelling solo is not his idea of a good time. If it weren’t for his faith in chocobos and the fact that they’re good at running away fast and kicking enemies in the face, he wouldn’t do it at all. What he’ll do when the 2 remaining hours of weak light a day shrink down to 0 and he can’t ride chocobos anymore, he really doesn’t know. Try and get a car, maybe.

Nyactis jumps onto Prompto’s leg and climbs him like he would a tree to reach Prompto’s shoulder, where he perches. When Prompto gets on the chocobo, the cat climbs down his shoulder and seats itself on the saddle in front of him.

“Next time, just meow at me or something and I’ll let you down, okay?” Prompto groans, his arm stinging from the cat’s claws. Nyactis meows. He’s very vocal, for a cat.

⁂

That night, Noctis appears in Prompto’s dreams again. They’re in some random pastoral Lucian landscape, green and blue, all fuzzy at the edges as dreams are wont to be.

“Totally wasn’t expecting you to kiss me, dude,” Noctis says, giving Prompto a side-eye as if Prompto might be about to jump on him again. “Should we talk about this?”

“Oh, great,” Prompto says. “My dreams have a - a _narrative_ now.”

Noctis sighs and rolls his eyes. “I didn’t spend forever figuring out how to turn into a cat just for you to treat it like a big joke. It’s really me, Prompto.”

“Sounds like something a Noctis I dreamed after finding a stray cat would say,” Prompto says, raising an eyebrow in exaggerated suspicion.

“Will you just humour me?” Noctis snaps. Prompto doesn’t want to make Noctis upset, even if he is a fake dream Noctis.

“Okay,” Prompto says patiently. “What do you want to know? I’m wildly in love with you and have been since high school. Does that answer your question?”

Noctis’s eyes widen. “You what?”

Prompto is about to say that he can’t believe he has to repeat himself to his own brain, when he realises that goes against dream Noctis’s “humour me” request. He sighs and repeats himself, softer and far less brash. “I love you,” he says.

Noctis lets out a breath and his eyes stay startled and round, but his posture doesn’t change. “Uh. Okay. Sure wish I’d known that earlier.”

“Is that all you have to say?” Prompto complains. “No, ‘ _Oh, Prompto, I love you so much too, will you please marry me and have my babies and be prince regent of Lucis even though you_ _’re totally unqualified for it?’”_

Noctis glares at him. “Shut up, Prompto. You have no idea how I feel. Do you really think it was fun sharing a bed with you for months knowing I had to get married and couldn’t even think about asking you out?”

“This is darker than my normal fantasies about confessing to you, but I’ll take it,” Prompto says. Dreams are weird like that, he thinks, since you can’t really control them most of the time.

Noctis glares even more, crosses his arms and half turns away. Prompto feels bad. He broke the “humour me” rule. Now dream Noctis is mad.

“Sorry,” he says. “This is just… I mean… If I say I think you really turned into a cat, I might have to face the possibility that the lack of sunlight is making me and everyone else I know crazy.”

“Is this how it is in your head _all the time_?” Noctis says grumpily. “You think _so much_ and you say it _all out loud_. It’s even worse than in real life.”

“Sorry,” Prompto says again. He takes a step toward Noctis, reaches out a hand. “Maybe we should start again tomorrow. If you’re still here, of course.”

Prompto doesn’t usually remember his dreams. He has to admit, it _is_ a bit weird that he remembered last night’s dream and is in the process of remembering this one too. Then again, maybe it’s just because the dreams are about Noctis. He’s important to Prompto. That’s all.

“I’ll be here,” Noctis says, clasping Prompto’s outstretched hand. The dream dissolves and changes to a nightmare about being chased by a catoblepas that turns into a mindflayer with Ardyn’s face.

When Prompto wakes up, shaking and sweating in the narrow caravan bed, Nyactis purrs and nuzzles his cheek until the shaking stops and Prompto goes back to sleep.

⁂

The next day, when Prompto goes to leave the caravan, Nyactis meows at him insistently, pawing at his ankles as he tries to walk to Takka’s diner to get some breakfast and pack some meals for the road back to Lestallum. Prompto stops. The cat sits in front of him, looking straight into his face, and meows again, loudly.

“You want me to pick you up?”

The cat _nods_. Prompto’s eyes go round. “Uh. Okay. Don’t scratch me.” He bends down, picks up the cat, and transfers it ungracefully to his shoulder.

“I get it,” he says as he walks into the diner. “Noct is the same height as me. Makes sense you’d want to be taller. It’s normal for you,” he says.

A beat. Takka is looking straight at him and Prompto gives a weak smile.

“I talk to myself too much,” he mutters, pretending to examine the menu. The cat gives a little _mrrp_ that could pass for a cat laugh. Prompto smiles too.

That night, Prompto asks dream Noctis, “Is it weird for you to be a cat? Do you want to eat mice and bugs and stuff? And like, why a cat? Why aren’t you a - I dunno, a dog or a bird? I can’t believe I’m asking this.”

Noctis frowns. “It’s hard to explain. I didn’t turn into a cat or anything. It’s more like I used the Crystal to connect to some kind of “essence of cat” and… uh, manifested into the body of a cat that already existed.”

“You body-snatched a cat?” Prompto cries in mock outrage.

Ignoring his tone, Noctis says, “Um, no. It was one that had recently died and… made room for me.”

“That’s grim, dude,” Prompto says, and Noctis just shrugs.

“It went to the afterlife where it was supposed to go. Don’t worry about it. Anyway, I picked a cat ‘cause I always loved cats, so it was easier to connect to them. I could’ve picked a fish, but then I couldn’t hang out with anyone so it’d be pointless.”

“And you what- walked here all the way from Niflheim?”

“I would’ve, if that’s what it took to get back to Lucis,” Noctis says, his heavy gaze telling Prompto just how serious he is. “But no. I manifested at Galdin Quay. I think it’s ‘cause Angelgard is connected to the Crystal, and that’s where the closest cat was.”

Prompto raises his eyebrows. “All of that sounds super unlikely, but… what do I know about magic? All I can do is summon guns and stuff out of the Armiger.”

“So you believe me?” Noctis asks.

Prompto sighs. “I’m thinking about it.” Noctis folds his arms, looking unimpressed by that non-committal answer. “But you still didn’t answer my question about what it’s like to be a cat.”

Noctis laughs. “You were right. I do like being tall.” He pats Prompto’s shoulder, and the touch of Noctis’s hand reminds Prompto they kissed two nights ago, but he won’t think about that now, he _won_ _’t_. He only has room in his head for one outlandish problem at a time, and the fact that Noctis is now possibly a _cat_ is going to have to take precedence for the time being.

“And the purring and stuff?” Prompto asks.

“All of that is cat instinct,” Noctis admits, looking slightly embarrassed. Rubbing his face on things, making biscuits with his paws, and accepting pets are included, Prompto presumes, since those are things he’s seen Nyactis do over the past week. “I can understand you, but all my senses are weird now. I need cat glasses ‘cause I can’t see anything far away, but of course I can see at night. Colours are all messed up, don’t ask me about them. And I can hear high pitched sounds and smell your stinky feet _way_ better than you can.”

“My feet are not stinky,” Prompto mutters.

“My _hair_ can see now.” Noctis continues complaining. “I mean, my whiskers. If they touch a rock in the dark, I can tell you it’s a rock. Cats sense _so much_ , it’s so distracting.”

“I wonder what would happen if I got a laser pointer,” Prompto muses.

Noctis scowls. “I’ll claw all your laundry to shreds if you try to humiliate me. Don’t think I won’t.”

Prompto laughs. The mood between them tonight is much easier, despite the strange conversation topic. Even if dream Noctis really is a product of his overactive imagination, he’s hilarious - and so true to reality. Prompto and Noctis continue bantering about Noctis’s cat status until Prompto’s sleep cycle changes and the dream fades away. He has no other dreams for the rest of the night.

⁂

After arriving back in Lestallum a few days later, he takes Nyactis to see Ignis and Gladio at the studio apartment he shares with them. Gladio and Ignis share the master bedroom, there is a combined living/kitchen area and a bathroom, and Prompto sleeps in what used to be a large closet. Unfortunately for him, he was relegated there due to being the physically smallest of the three of them. It’s not so bad now that the walls are absolutely plastered with photos and the air mattress that was originally there has been swapped out for a cot-style bed.

Gladio and Ignis already know that Prompto adopted a cat ( _unwise distraction in combat if you_ _’re going to carry it around like that, Prompto_ ) and named him Nyactis, but he kinda wants to get a second opinion on whether or not it really _could_ be Noctis in a cat’s body, like Noctis has been saying in his dreams.

“So…” Prompto says, standing in the kitchen and feeling completely out of his depth, “Have you guys noticed anything weird about Nyactis?”

“Is there something strange about him?” Ignis asks.

“Um… I think so. Kinda?” Prompto tries.

Ignis picks Nyactis up and gets a gentle paw dab against his face for his troubles. Gladio peers over Ignis’s shoulder, and Nyactis chirps a hello. Ignis uses his hands and Gladio his eyes to examine Nyactis closely but gently, ignoring his meows of protest when they turn him this way and that. When they try to look under his tail to double-check his sex, Nyactis hisses and swipes at Gladio’s hand.

“Uh, sorry,” Prompto says, wincing.

“Cats will be cats,” Gladio says, not sounding too upset. But actually, Prompto was apologising to Nyactis because no one was respecting his boundaries. Maybe he should’ve explained the situation _before_ he asked Ignis and Gladio to look at him.

“So? Anything?” he says.

Gladio shakes his head. “Looks like a normal cat to me,” he says.

“I agree, and he seems to be in fine health,” Ignis says, setting Nyactis down on the table and petting his back. Nyactis shoots him a disdainful look in thanks for all the manhandling, but allows it.

“He doesn’t… remind you of anyone?” Prompto tries. “His eye colour, or…?”

Obligingly, Nyactis tips his head up towards Gladio so he can get a good look at his eyes. Prompto wonders if Gladio notices Nyactis did it without being prompted, if Gladio thinks it was just a coincidence. It’s starting to seem very much not like a coincidence to him.

“They’re blue,” Gladio states flatly.

“They don’t remind you of anyone else’s?”

Ignis’s eyes narrow. “Prompto, what are you attempting to ask us?”

Prompto takes a deep breath. Oh, gods. Tin foil hat time. He feels like this could go badly. “I’ve been having these weird dreams where Noct has been telling me that he’s this cat,” he says, pointing at Nyactis. “I kinda felt it even before I started dreaming about it, but he answered all my questions about it and my imagination’s good but I don’t think it’s _that_ good, y’know?”

Ignis has stopped petting Nyactis and is still, seemingly having forgotten he’s got his hand on a cat at all. Gladio looks equally flabbergasted. There’s a long pause.

“It is totally inappropriate to insinuate that our absent friend Noctis is a _cat_ ,” Ignis says. “For shame, Prompto.”

Heat rises to Prompto’s face, and he feels like he’s done something horrible when he’s just trying to be honest and ethical.

“He answers questions,” he says desperately. “Watch this. Nyactis, if you can understand me, nod.”

He almost can’t watch, terrified that he imagined the previous instance of Nyactis nodding at him. To his intense relief, Nyactis’s little kitty head bobs up and down in an obvious nod.

“He moved his head,” Gladio reports to Ignis, but Gladio’s stony expression and Ignis’s irritated one don’t change.

“Just because your cat is smart and well-trained doesn’t mean he’s secretly a person. Get a grip,” says Gladio.

“B-but don’t you guys think this is kinda weird?” Prompto tries one last time, feeling like he’s dying a little on the inside.

“No, I think you miss Noct so much you’re trying to convince yourself he’s already returned.” Ignis sighs, his voice growing gentler. “But he’s not here, Prompto. You must accept that. As must we all.”

Prompto swallows, hanging his head in shame. Nyactis wriggles out from under Ignis’s grasp and jumps onto Prompto’s shoulder, wrapping his tail around Prompto’s neck protectively.

“I’ll just… I’ll just go,” Prompto says.

Ignis waits Gladio watches him as he practically bolts into his bedroom and slams the door. As soon as the door is locked, Gladio says to Ignis (and Prompto can hear it through the door, though he wishes that he can’t), “What. The. Fuck.”

Prompto puts a pillow over his ears to block out the ensuing conversation, and Nyactis curls up against his chest, purring aggressively.

That night, however, when Prompto opens the door to his room (he has to go to the bathroom and get a drink sometime, even if he’s not hungry), Nyactis slips out of the room and vanishes. Prompto doesn’t want to search the apartment because he’s not sure what he’ll say to Ignis or Gladio if he sees them, so he goes to bed alone.

⁂

In hindsight, maybe Prompto should’ve expected Ignis and Gladio’s strong reaction to his question. Noctis was the centre of Ignis and Gladio’s lives since Gladio was born and since Ignis was a tiny child, and he was Prompto’s first ever friend. Even though they know Noctis is still alive in the Crystal thanks to Gentiana, not being able to talk to him and see his face has been incredibly hard on all of them. The uncertain date of his return makes things even harder. In a way, they are truly grieving his absence, mourning him.

Or at least, Prompto _was_. He feels a little better now, but he doesn’t think about it too hard.

⁂

In the following days, Prompto spends his time working with Gladio, Ignis, and other members of Lestallum’s makeshift government and emergency council to assist refugees and make sure the city is daemon-proof. It’s awkward working with Ignis and Gladio, but they seem to be trying to pretend like that horrible conversation about Nyactis never happened. It might be his imagination, but he’s sensing some distance from them, though. Or maybe the distance is coming from him.

Although Prompto sees him in the living area of the apartment during the day, Nyactis doesn’t enter Prompto’s room for three more nights. During those three nights, Prompto doesn’t dream about Noctis at all.

The fourth night, he hears a scratching at his bedroom door and opens it to receive a downcast-looking cat, who jumps onto Prompto’s bed and curls up with his head resting on his front paws.

“You had a bad day, huh, buddy?” Prompto murmurs, giving Nyactis a gentle pet. He wants to be mad at Nyactis for getting him into trouble with Ignis and Gladio, but Nyactis is a cat. If anyone is to blame, it’s dream Noctis. Prompto is going to have Words with him.

But when he opens his eyes to find himself standing in a hazy dream replica of an Altissian plaza, he sees that dream Noctis looks just as upset as he feels.

“Why’d you disappear?” Prompto says, not accusing but frustrated.

Noctis grimaces. “I was trying to dream share with Ignis and Gladio like I do with you, by sleeping in their bed. But it didn’t work.”

“Why not?” Prompto says suspiciously. Maybe he’s the only one who can dream share with Noctis because it’s not actually Noctis, it’s just his grief or whatever, like Ignis said.

“They don’t want to believe Nyactis is Noctis or that I could really talk to people in dreams, so they’re shutting me out. You have, I dunno, more imagination or something.”

Prompto bites his lip. “I think I was just more desperate to see you again.” He hates to admit it because it backs Ignis’s theory, but… it’s the truth.

“I’m sorry, Prompto,” Noctis says. “I never meant to leave you. I didn’t know what was gonna happen with the Crystal until it did. Arydn tricked me.”

Noctis is looking at him with sad eyes, and Prompto wants to hug him. “It’s okay,” Prompto says gently. “It’s not your fault.”

Why is he still treating dream Noctis as if he’s the real Noctis, as if his feelings matter and aren’t just a figment of Prompto’s imagination? It doesn’t _feel_ as if Noctis is a figment of his imagination. Everything Noctis says and Nyactis does seem to line up perfectly, and Prompto is afraid to just label it a coincidence.

“Thanks,” Noctis says, his shoulders hunching a little.

“So,” Prompto says, “what do we do about Ignis and Gladio?”

“Nothing, I guess,” Noctis replies, still looking miserable. “Wait until they let me back into their room again.”

Prompto is surprised at how quickly he’s become addicted to having a cat in his bed to keep him company, Noctis’s dream visits aside. It makes him feel safe and… not alone. He doesn’t like the idea of Nyactis continuing to sleep in Ignis and Gladio’s room instead of his.

“I’ll miss you,” he says, and wonders if saying that should frighten him. He thinks for a moment, trying to come up with some way Noctis can give him irrefutable proof that he really is Nyactis. “Will you do me a favour?”

“Yeah?”

“Tomorrow when we wake up, lick me on the nose and, uh… scratch my left hand. I know it’s weird, but if you do it I’ll know that these dreams really are connected to my cat.”

“Don’t shut me out,” Noctis pleads. Prompto takes a deep breath.

“I don’t want to, dude,” he says.

⁂

The next morning, Prompto wakes up to find Nyactis’s face about an inch away from his own and goes cross-eyed trying to figure out what’s going on. Before he’s blinked the sleepiness out of his eyes, Nyactis has licked his nose and scratched him on the back of the hand.

“Ow!” Prompto shouts, sitting up quickly and holding his injured hand away from the offending cat. “What was that for?”

Nyactis just looks at him calmly until Prompto remembers the dream he had last night. When he remembers what he asked Noctis to do, he gets chills down his spine.

He looks back at his hands. The one Nyactis scratched is the left one.

“Holy Shiva,” Prompto whispers. It’s all true. It _has_ to be. There’s no way he imagined this, and there’s no way it’s a coincidence.

Ignis and Gladio are wrong. Nyactis really is Noctis. And Prompto’s dreams are real. All day he looks at the scratch on his hand and thinks, _It_ _’s real._

That night, Noctis says to him, “Do you know how hard it was for me to figure out which of your hands was the left one? Because it’s opposite to my right. It was confusing. Why’d you have to be so specific?”

Prompto just laughs, and longs to kiss Noctis again.

Thinking that, it finally sinks in. He not only kissed, but confessed to his best friend. For _real_. It wasn’t just a dream or his imagination. For a moment, he feels a little sick. But then he remembers how Noctis kissed him back, how he sort of insinuated that he likes Prompto too. Maybe - maybe there’s a chance for him there.

“What’s wrong?” Noctis says, as Prompto goes quiet.

“Uh. Um. Nothing?” Prompto says hastily. He’s not ready to talk about this with Noctis in a way that’s not facetious. Not now, but - soon. “Tell me more about being a cat.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Is it weird when I pet you?” Prompto says, not really meaning the question until the words are out of his mouth and he realises that yeah, that might actually be kinda weird for Noctis. Oops.

Noctis shakes his head. “Nah. It’s like having someone rub your back. It feels really good, but not in a weird way. When you get my neck it’s like someone scratching that part of your back that your arms can’t normally reach. It’s so good.” He flushes, and Prompto is fascinated by the touch of pink that comes to his cheeks. Noctis rarely blushes. He’s normally too stoic for that, which is too bad, because it’s a beautiful sight. “It’s weird to _talk_ about, though,” Noctis says.

“I love petting Nyactis. He’s such a good boy,” Prompto croons.

Noctis looks insulted. “Don’t touch me.”

Prompto laughs and wiggles his fingers at Noctis as if threatening to to pet him. “A good, good kitty. Such a good boy, such a nice cat.”

This dream ends with Prompto chasing Noctis around the plaza, trying to tickle him. Both of them are laughing, although Noctis is still trying to act like Prompto is pissing him off. The next day, Nyactis bats away Prompto’s hands for hours but finally gives up at night and consents to a bedtime cuddle.

The question of how Prompto feels for Noctis and how Noctis feels for Prompto remains unresolved.

⁂

A few days pass. Noctis and Prompto pass their dream time together just talking about the day’s events, and catching Noctis up on all the stuff that happened in the year that he was stuck in the Crystal. Several times he catches Noctis looking at him intently, and his face flushes and he has to look away.

The worst part is over. He already confessed to Noctis, and Noctis didn’t push him away. Prompto rehearses what he wants to say, and he has it all planned out: _Noct. I like you. I already told you how I feel. How do you feel about me?_

Unfortunately, Noctis beats him to it.

“So. You like me,” Noctis says, springing this little trap on Prompto the second he appears in the dream.

“Yeah?” Prompto says nervously.

Noctis frowns, tapping his foot against the floor impatiently. He sighs. “I wish I could take you on a date. Your dreams are so unromantic and I can’t really control them.” He gestures to the setting, which is a classroom in their old high school. “Who knows why we’re here.”

“Aww, you’d be romantic for me?” Prompto says teasingly, although his heart is pounding fast.

“Yeah, I would. I’d try.”

Prompto swallows. “You really… you really like me too?”

Noctis takes a deep breath. “I love you,” he mumbles, looking away with pink spots high in his cheeks. “Since you said it to me, I want to say it back. It’s true.”

Prompto is so stunned that he doesn’t reply for several long moments. When he regains control over his brain and mouth, what comes out is, “Can I kiss you again?”

The faux wood desk behind Noctis hurriedly makes itself more real to touch and sight as Noctis sits down on it.

“Come on, then,” he says, holding out a hand.

 _You did this before,_ Prompto reminds himself. _How hard can it be?_

His heart is thumping so hard that he can hear it. But he takes Noctis’s hand, boldly steps forward, takes a deep breath, and kisses him again.

This time, Prompto is so nervous that it takes a moment for his body to register that he’s kissing anyone. Noctis’s lips are not perfectly soft, but they _feel_ soft in that Noctis is very gentle and tentative with him, perhaps because he also doesn’t know what he’s doing. Prompto kisses Noctis again and again, chaste, closed-mouth kisses that linger by mutual consent. His brain keeps trying to register all the sensations at once but this is just so much.

Then he feels Noctis’s hands on his waist and realises he’s put his own hands on Noctis’s shoulders. The contact is grounding to him, and he relaxes against Noctis, nestled between his legs and pressing up against his torso. Noctis puts his arms around Prompto and holds him, and Prompto relaxes further, shyly drawing back and touching his forehead to Noctis’s.

“I can’t believe we’re finally doing this,” he says, a little out of breath and filled with butterflies and joy.

“Me neither,” says Noctis, cupping Prompto’s face with his hands. This simple action is completely new for Prompto too. It’s so… loving. Prompto is a little surprised that Noctis really does have some romantic spirit in him, but it’s so welcome, so wonderful. Strong feeling floods through him and he kisses Noctis again.

This time, Noctis lets out a little sigh and actually opens his mouth. Prompto is momentarily flustered until Noctis’s tongue darts out and teases at his lips and, oh - _this_ is a new sensation, hot and intoxicating. Prompto immediately wants more. He chases the feeling, kissing Noctis passionately if a little bit clumsily.

“You went straight for a makeout, huh?” Prompto laughs, breathless, when they finally pause.

“I’ve been waiting five years for this,” Noctis says, and Prompto kisses him again.

⁂

When he wakes up, Prompto is on cloud nine. Yes, the food situation is tenuous given the fact that mass greenhouses with solar lights were only just established and are a bit experimental. Yes, the fact that more refugees come to already jam-packed Lestallum and Old Lestallum every day is both tragic and difficult logistically, requiring endless problem-solving. But for him, there is a place where sunshine exists, a place that can’t be touched by hunger, daemon sickness, or fear. And in that place, Noctis exists, loving him with open arms.

During the day, he goes about his duties with a will, especially when Nyactis is there riding on his shoulder. At night, he and Noctis try their hardest to make up for five years (possibly six or seven in Prompto’s case) of no kissing and minimal cuddling. Whenever they appear in a dream landscape with a bed or sofa they celebrate by making full use of the furniture. Sometimes they talk until it devolves into kissing. Sometimes they kiss until it devolves into silly jokes.

Prompto doesn’t realise that people have noticed he’s happy, however, until Ignis and Gladio start giving him weird looks all the time.

He recounts all this to Noctis, saying, “Ignis and Gladio think it’s weird how happy I am. I think they think something’s up with me, but they haven’t said anything.”

Noctis looks uneasy, but only says, “There’s nothing wrong with being happy. I hope they leave you alone.”

And they do leave him alone, although Prompto has an uneasy feeling about it. He doesn’t want this safe place, this good feeling to end. And he can’t even bring himself to imagine what it would be like to lose Noctis _again_.

⁂

Months after Noctis and Prompto’s second-ever kiss, Prompto enters their shared dream to find himself in a bedroom he doesn’t recognise. The room is bright and clean, white sheets and blankets on a plush-looking bed. Daylight streams through the open windows, and glimpses of a blue, blue sky can be seen through the plain white curtains which billow in the flower-scented breeze. There are blue flowers in vases on the nightstand and the bookshelf.

“What is this place?” Prompto says, examining the view from the window. Nothing but mountains and that beautiful clear blue sky. He’s certain he’s never been here before, which is confusing, to say the least.

Noctis hesitates. “It’s not your dream. It’s mine.”

“How do you know?” Prompto says, turning to him. Noctis looks uncomfortable.

“It’s a recurring dream. I’ve had it a couple of times.”

“Oh,” Prompto says. “Guess we’re dream-sharing on another level now. What happens in this one?”

Noctis swallows. “This is one where I should show you.” His voice dips low and quiet. “If, um. If you’re ready.”

“Ready?” Prompto asks, heart beginning to pound for reasons he doesn’t understand.

“If you get on the bed,” Noctis says. “I’ll show you.”

Prompto’s eyes widen. “Oh.” He sees the way Noctis is looking at him. There’s something strange in his eyes, something dark and yet soft at the same time. Is this desire? He’s never known it before, never known anyone to look at him with such hungry, lovely eyes.

“Okay,” Prompto whispers.

He lies down on the bed as Noctis indicates, and Noctis lies down facing him, the billowing white curtains fluttering behind him like wings.

“Close your eyes,” Noctis says, and Prompto does. Noctis takes one of his hands and Prompto feels a pang of tenderness as Noctis kisses the back of it once. Then, Noctis puts Prompto’s arm around him and moves closer to him so that their bodies are aligned.

Prompto takes a deep breath in, heart still pounding and stomach fluttering with nervous anticipation. The next thing he feels is Noctis kissing him on the lips.

They kiss passionately for long minutes, electric and wanting, until Prompto, eyes still closed, feels Noctis’s hands lifting the hem of his shirt. Noctis’s fingers graze against his stomach and something _else_ seems to flutter there.

He _is_ ready.

He lets Noctis undress him and they continue on, into a rush of heat and silver stars.

⁂

“So, where was that place?” Prompto asks, the night after. It was sort of jarring to return to the real world in the morning and not have any signs of what he spent the night doing on his body. Now that he’s returned to the dreamscape, he can see a flush of a bruise on the side of Noctis’s neck, and wonders if there is one on his. His hand goes to the side of his neck, but of course he can’t tell through touch.

“It was Tenebrae,” Noctis says, “sort of. It was like a place I dreamed based on when I visited there as a kid.”

“It was… special,” Prompto says, and Noctis smiles shyly. “I hope we have that dream again,” Prompto dares to add.

In fact, they do go back a few times. But with the advent of this dream, Noctis seems to gain more power over their shared dreams than he had before. He can control where they show up in the dream world by planning for it before falling asleep, and eventually can move them from location to location within the same dream. If it’s not Prompto’s imagination, the dreams have actually gotten slightly longer than they were when he first started meeting Noctis in his dreams. But, they still can share only one dream a night.

In spite of all these promising developments, there are storm clouds gathering at the periphery of Prompto’s existence. Ignis and Gladio _have_ noticed he’s too happy, and it doesn’t take them long to decide just what they want to say to him.

⁂

They corner him in the apartment, alone. Later, Prompto finds Nyactis shut into the bathroom. Hindsight will tell him this isn’t a coincidence.

“It has come to our attention that you are in an extremely good mood,” Ignis starts. “Although we’re glad that you’ve been able to find joy amid these difficult times, we’re concerned because even as your friends we can’t seem to understand it.”

And Gladio says, “Care to tell us what’s going on?”

Prompto thinks about it, worrying at his bottom lip. “I want to tell you,” he says nervously, “but I don’t think you’ll believe me. You didn’t before.”

Gladio shoots Ignis a glance which says they were expecting an answer like that and they’re just as concerned about what he has to say as he is, but probably for opposite reasons.

“Please be honest with us, Prompto. We need to know if anything is happening in your life that could affect your performance on missions and put you in danger.”

“Nothing dangerous. But.” Prompto bites his lip. Should he tell them the truth? He’s not doing anything wrong, right? And they did specifically ask him to be honest. Although he has a bad feeling about this, he decides to try and do the right thing and explain anyway. “Remember a long time ago when I asked you if Nyactis reminds you of Noctis? I know you said I was just imagining things, but, uh… I really don’t think I am.”

“And?”

“And…” Prompto takes a deep breath, forcing the words out. “Noctis and I… we’re together. In my dreams. It’s uh. Really nice.” As he speaks, he feels like he’s wilting under the weight of his words and Ignis and Gladio’s unreadable expressions.

“You realise that what you’re suggesting is impossible?” Ignis’s face doesn’t change, nor does his tone of voice, but his words are damning.

“How do you know it’s impossible?” Prompto says defensively.

“I studied magic as part of my education,” Ignis says. “The Crystal is a place of power for royalty, but nothing from inside the Crystal has ever been known to come out. Although Noctis is prophesied to return to purify the Scourge, he certainly has not been prophesied to turn into a cat.”

“And I learnt everything a Crownsguard or Kingsglaive has to know about the practical applications of magic, and I’ve never heard about anything like this either,” Gladio added. “The only known instance of people turning into sentient animals is the Toad status effect. There’s no such thing for cats.”

“Well, maybe Noctis is a special case,” Prompto tries. “He’s the only person who’s gone into the Crystal and hasn’t died. He’s the only person who’s qualified to say what he can or can’t do.”

“And your dreams are not a reliable source of what Noctis’s perspective might be,” Ignis says in a reasonable tone that shakes Prompto to his core.

“I can point to a million things Nyactis has done that proves he knows what happens in my dreams and understands what I say,” Prompto says, the desperation growing in his voice.

“And you can’t prove he’s not trained or it’s not a coincidence,” says Gladio.

“If he knows all the “commands” I give him, he’s the smartest cat in the universe,” Prompto snaps, folding his arms. “He knows at least 470,000 words, which is the number of words in the English language. He can read, for fuck’s sake.” It’s true. Sometimes if he has to leave Nyactis alone in the apartment all day, he leaves an ebook on his phone for him, and they’ve had dream conversations about the contents of the books. Nyactis can’t actually unlock the phone with his paws, but he can scroll through it okay.

“Do you realise how crazy this sounds? Are you hearing yourself? You’re saying your _cat_ can _read_!” Gladio says, throwing his arms in the air.

“Well, he can!”

“No, he can’t. He. Is. A Cat. And you’re a fucking liability, that’s what you are,” Gladio snaps.

Prompto pauses. “Wait. When have I let anyone down?”

“You have your head in the clouds all the time, Prompto. Don’t think we haven’t noticed. It’s because you’re living in this dream world that you’ve invented in your head,” says Gladio.

This is the first thing that gives Prompto pause. _Has_ he had his head in the clouds lately? He’s certainly happier than he was for the first year of the Dark World. Which is strange, because things have only gotten worse in other respects - no more daylight, more daemons, more famine. Noctis really does make him forget all those things, and continue living as if everything is - or is going to be - okay.

Noctis has a _huge_ effect on him. Prompto suddenly, frighteningly realises that over half his life is devoted to stuff that happens in his sleep. All his old fears come rushing back. He does know how he sounds from an outside perspective. What if the things he’s seen or thinks he’s seen Nyactis do are just… hallucinations? Oh gods, what if he can’t trust the authority of his own senses? What if he’s just completely deluded about everything? If it’s so obvious to him that Nyactis is Noctis, why can’t anyone else see it?

The obvious answer is that it’s because it’s not real.

Prompto crumples. “Oh,” he says. He’s so confused and doesn’t know what to think, anxiety racing through his veins. “Oh,” he says again. “I - I - I don’t know what to do.”

Ignis takes over again from Gladio, who still seems a little steamed. “You mustn’t believe that your dreams are real, Prompto. We all miss Noctis dearly, but you can’t be in a relationship with someone who isn’t really there.”

Numbly, Prompto nods. He still doesn’t know what to do. He retreats to his room, lies down on the bed, and tries to think logically through all the feelings that are swirling around his body.

⁂

It actually takes Prompto several nights to get back into a dream that has Noctis in it, because his thoughts keep him awake at night, and when he does fall asleep, it’s fitful and light. He tries to tell himself that the reason he isn’t seeing Noctis is because he isn’t dreaming, not because Noctis is a figment of his imagination that only shows up when he’s in the mood for it.

When he finally gets back into a shared dream, there’s silence as Noctis takes in the dark circles under Prompto’s eyes and the unhappy set of his mouth.

“What happened?” Noctis says, sounding worried. “Why haven’t you been sleeping?”

“Ignis and Gladio say you aren’t real,” Prompto blurts out. “I can’t keep doing this. I already feel like I’m going crazy from all the stress of daemons being everywhere.”

Noctis looks heartbroken. “You - you want me to go away?”

“No, I want you to prove you’re real to someone else.”

“I can’t,” Noctis says, so frustrated he’s on the verge of tears. Prompto knows the feeling. “I tried getting through to Ignis and Gladio, but they just keep shutting me out.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Prompto admits brokenly.

“Me neither,” Noctis says. “Should I go away? Just pretend to be a normal cat? Not be in your dreams anymore? If you didn’t want me here, I wouldn’t be here now.”

“So all this is my fault?” Prompto glares through eyes that are glistening with tears. He sniffs and angrily wipes his nose with one hand. “I didn’t mean that. Let me think.”

Prompto paces back and forth, his arms swinging loosely at his sides as he tries to think. He isn’t much more successful than he’s been alone in his room for the past few nights. This situation is too complicated for him. If Noctis is really here with him, and it’s _not_ his imagination, then he’s going to break Noctis’s heart by asking him to back off. But if Noctis _isn_ _’t_ real, then Prompto has a serious psychological problem - on top of all his pre-existing anxiety, depression, and PTSD, _fantastic_ \- and he needs to admit it and get help. _But_ , a small part of his mind whispers, Noctis’s night-time presence is what’s keeping his depression from spiralling out of control, and his daytime presence helps with the anxiety and PTSD. _But_ , wondering whether Prompto’s crazy or not is giving him major stress, anxiety, and loss of faith in himself. If he keeps believing in Noctis, he loses. And if he stops, he loses also. If he lets go of Noctis, it will hurt Noctis. But if he holds on to Noctis, he might still hurt him anyway. Noctis is being hurt _right now_ and there’s nothing Prompto can do to stop it.

But, isn’t this in some ways Noctis’s fault?

No, Prompto can’t think like that. But what if he does? What if he starts to resent Noctis and then he _really_ loses him forever?

Panic threatens to overwhelm Prompto, and his tears start to fall. Clamping a hand over his mouth, he sinks down to his knees. Noctis hovers, clearly concerned and afraid to bridge the gap between them with a comforting touch.

“I can’t,” Prompto chokes out. “I’m not strong. I’m not strong enough, Noct. I’m sorry.”

With that, he breaks off into great, heaving sobs, hugging his legs to his chest and pushing his face into his knees. When he looks up again, Noctis is gone. This only makes him cry harder, his whole body rocking back and forth in his distress.

When he wakes up in the morning, there are tears still dripping down his face. He clasps the cold blankets to his chest and mechanically wipes the tears away.

And Nyactis. Nyactis is gone too. There is no small black cat anywhere in the apartment, though Prompto searches high and low. When he finds a window unlocked in the living area, Prompto knows. He is completely alone now. No one in his head but him.

And it’s devastating. He is in ruins.

⁂

Gladio comes to find Prompto a few days later, when he hasn’t left the apartment once, only leaves his room at night, and everyone wants to know where he is.

When Gladio opens the door and squeezes into the darkened bedroom, Prompto looks up at him from where he’s lying curled up on the bed. His eyes are hollow. “Noctis is gone,” he says.

“Noctis in your brain?” Gladio hesitantly asks. Prompto just nods.

“And Nyactis,” he says, voice muffled as he turns his face towards the pillow. There’s no small furry body to cuddle with at night. No purring in his ear, no biscuits being kneaded into the blanket or his chest. No comforting voice in his dreams, no kisses and touches. No inside jokes. No Noctis.

 _Maybe,_ he thinks bitterly, _this is what Ignis and Gladio were feeling after we left Zegnautus Keep. Did I feel that way too?_ He can’t remember. The dark year in between Noctis’s disappearance and return in the form of a cat is a blur of frenzied activity as they struggled to prepare Lucis for the coming environmental catastrophe. Any pain he might have felt then seems to have been erased or dulled, rendered unimportant by Noctis’s return.

For a year of happiness with Nyactis and dream Noctis he is paying an unbearably heavy price. Prompto is sane, but at what cost?

Gladio looks at Prompto, concern and empathy written into every line on his face. He sighs and sits down on the bed next to Prompto. “I know Noctis is gone,” he simply says. “I know how it hurts.”

It hurts? Gladio can’t possibly know what this feels like. How to explain that losing Noctis twice is so much worse than losing him only once? How to explain that if dream Noctis isn’t real, losing him means losing a lover so completely the relationship can never be recovered?

When Prompto doesn’t speak, Gladio admits, “When he first went into that Crystal, I… I thought about giving up, too. Didn’t really know what to do without him, to be honest with you. But we can’t do that. The world needs us. And even if it didn’t… Noct wouldn’t want you to give up.”

Prompto knows. He knows Noctis went to great lengths to rescue him from Zegnautus Keep, and would probably not be pleased if Prompto himself undid all of that hard work by going and ungratefully dying. But there’s just too much going on in his heart and head, and it’s paralysing him.

Gladio sighs and places a comforting hand on Prompto’s ankle. “You’re not alone, Prompto.”

Prompto wants his cat.

“Do you think… Nyactis is okay?” he manages to say quietly.

Gladio’s hand tightens on his leg. “He’ll be fine. He was a stray before you found him. He knows how to take care of himself.”

“I don’t even know where he went,” Prompto says pathetically.

“I’ll look for him,” Gladio promises, although Prompto has no idea if he should believe him or not. What does it matter? Gladio seeing or not seeing Nyactis somewhere will not change this situation.

“Thanks,” Prompto says, and closes his eyes.

⁂

Over the next few weeks Prompto does make some attempt to try and keep going with regular life, although he doesn’t see much point in it. He’s proud of himself for getting two meals a day, although that’s mostly because Ignis and Gladio live in the same apartment as him and will know and bother him if they don’t see food disappearing from the kitchen at a fast enough pace. He makes it to a few appointments looking like a total hot mess, is marginally helpful, and leaves. Most of his time is spent listlessly staring at the pictures of Noctis on the walls of his room, or trying to somehow sort through his tangled mess of thoughts.

When he sleeps, there are no dreams. The emptiness makes him want to stay awake, but the emptiness of his bed and life with no small cat to curl up in them, bother him with loud meowing, knead painful biscuits into various parts of his body, and cuddle up against him makes him want to go to sleep. Usually, sleep wins out.

Ignis and Gladio try and get through to him several times, both of them reporting having seen Nyactis - or a cat that looks like him - hanging around in the neighbourhood. They claim to have put some food out for him, not that they have the rations to waste on potentially the wrong cat. But no matter what they say, Prompto just can’t seem to get it together. He knows it’s a personal failing, but how can he help his grief?

About a month and a half after Prompto and Noctis split up, Ignis knocks on Prompto’s door and then cracks it open without waiting for his answer.

“There’s something for you in the kitchen,” Ignis says. “I’m going out, but I’ll be back later. Gladio is here.”

“Something for me?”

“Yes. And you’d better go see what it is quickly. It won’t keep forever.”

Ignis leaves, and Prompto is left to contemplate whether or not he should go see what’s waiting for him. He hears the front door click and decides, _what the hell._ It’s not like he has anything better to do.

When he walks into the kitchen area, there’s a cardboard box with holes punched in it sitting on the table. He hears a loud, angry meow and immediately recognises Nyactis’s voice. He takes a step back, torn between hope and fear. Although he wants nothing more than to run to the box and rip it open, he can’t.

“Gladio?” he calls.

The bathroom door opens and Gladio appears, seeming to have just dressed after coming out of the shower. “Yeah?”

“In the kitchen, there’s this box,” Prompto says haltingly.

Gladio nods. “Yup. Iggy and I went out and found your cat for you. Seems you don’t do too well without him. Just take him. Maybe he can cheer you up a little.”

Mentally, Prompto translates this to ‘ _We found your stupid cat, please be functional again._ ’ And he’d love to be. But he’s still conflicted about this, especially as dream Noctis is intrinsically linked to Nyactis. Still, he can’t keep living as he has been. He needs to do something before he starts to waste away, and truth be told, he’s weak. He just wants his cat back.

“Thank you,” he says.

“Sure,” Gladio says, giving him a nod and returning to the bathroom to dry his hair. Following suit, Prompto returns to the kitchen. Hearing his footsteps, Nyactis gives another angry meow.

“I’m here, buddy,” Prompto murmurs. The box immediately stills.

Undoing the string that the top is tied closed with, Prompto lifts the flaps of the box and looks inside. There, looking back at him, is Nyactis’s familiar furry face, Noctis’s blue eyes peering at him out of it. The relief Prompto feels is crushing. Nyactis is safe, thank all the gods.

But now, Prompto needs to figure out what to do with him. He thinks for a moment.

“Hey,” Prompto says softly. “Do you wanna be my cat? _Just_ my cat. Not… anything else. No… dreams.”

Looking straight into Prompto’s eyes, Nyactis meows a short chirp. _Yes._ He butts his head up against Prompto’s hand. When Prompto scratches him behind the ears and he starts purring, Prompto has to silently wipe his eyes with his free hand.

Nyactis paws the side of the box as if to say, _Get me out of this thing_. Prompto has to laugh, because Nyactis is perfectly capable of jumping out himself.

“Spoilt rotten,” he says, lifting Nyactis out of the box and transferring him to his shoulder. “Where were you? What have you been eating? I bet you’re hungry, huh?”

Nyactis meows piteously, so Prompto gets out some leftover chikatrice meat and puts it on a plate. Nyactis digs in as if he hasn’t eaten in a month. When he’s done eating, Prompto puts the plate in the sink and takes Nyactis back to his room. There, he lies down on the bed and Nyactis immediately jumps up beside him. Curling around his cat, Prompto strokes his soft fur until Nyactis is purring and kneading biscuits into the blanket.

No matter what _else_ Nyactis is, he is still a cat. “I’m sorry you were homeless,” Prompto says to him, burying his face in Nyactis’s side. Nyactis only purrs. Prompto spends all afternoon curled up on the bed with his cat, petting him and talking to him and sometimes just lying in silence beside him, an arm curled around his dozing form.

Prompto is hesitant to continue thinking about his dreams with Noctis in them. It seems like he’ll only go in circles, or he’ll work himself into a panic again. He could come to a dangerous conclusion and will have to take great care not to commit to anything rashly. But Nyactis being here comforts him. Unlike when he was gone, Prompto feels like he still has time to figure out what’s real and what’s not, and he can take as much time as he wants as long as Nyactis is still here.

It’s time to start thinking out of the box. As it did in middle school so long ago, determination floods Prompto’s heart.

 _Maybe it_ _’s not too late,_ Prompto thinks. For what, he doesn’t know. Being a responsible cat owner, definitely. Being with Noctis… maybe.

⁂

From then on, Prompto has to balance trying to figure out what he believes and wants to believe about himself, Nyactis, and Noctis, with the tasks of everyday life that he’s been neglecting and moreover, with the essential work that he’s been neglecting. Fortunately, as he eases back into his regular duties, no one makes any negative comments about the fact that he’s been away.

The Dark World is tough. Everybody knows that everyone else is bearing up under its weight just the same as they are, and if someone stumbles for a while, everybody understands. Although, Prompto’s Crownsguard colleagues don’t know that Prompto’s mini breakdown was over his cat running away and an argument with his imaginary best friend slash boyfriend. He decides not to mention that part. Anyone else in his position, weird though it might be, would have felt the same, he’s certain of it.

Prompto does his best to mentally take apart the whole Noctis/Nyactis situation, look at it from all angles. As expected, he comes to a dead end early on. He takes to journaling about it and taking pictures of Nyactis, although the latter is more for fun and stress relief than anything else. Throughout this time, Nyactis is the model of loyalty and good cat behaviour, although sometimes - if Prompto’s mind isn’t deceiving him - he catches Nyactis looking sad. When that happens, Prompto usually gives him a treat and cuddles him if he has the time, partly to make Nyactis feel better and partly to assuage his own conscience.

It takes months, but one night Prompto finally gains enough clarity to be struck by inspiration - a solution, a way out of this mess. When he’s sure it’s the right one, he summarises his conclusions in a short essay to himself on five pieces of paper, puts them in an envelope and hides them under the mattress. Then he burns his journal over a haven fire, but he keeps the cat pictures. He doesn’t want anyone else finding and reading all his secret, implausible thoughts, either now or after he’s been eaten by a daemon.

Nyactis watches Prompto burn the journal with a look of consternation on his little kitty face. Prompto pets him as he watches it burn. The tip of Nyactis’s tail twitches anxiously.

“Noct,” Prompto says. “If you can hear me, I’m ready to talk. If you wanna talk to me. Uh, tonight. Okay?”

Nyactis meows mournfully.

“It’s okay,” Prompto says, petting Nyactis’s ears. “I think you’re gonna like what I have to say.”

Nyactis nuzzles his hand, and watches Prompto closely for the rest of the evening.

That night, Prompto actually wakes up in the dream space - this haven, but adorned with clear skies that date back to his road trip days - before Noctis shows up. For a few minutes, he paces back and forth across the haven, wondering what could possibly be going on.

When Noctis finally arrives, he gives an irritated sigh. “Sorry for the wait,” he says. “I couldn’t fall asleep ‘cause I was nervous.”

“Don’t be nervous,” Prompto says, stepping towards Noctis but swinging his arms awkwardly at his sides when he’s not sure what to do with them. “And I’m the one who should be sorry for taking so long to figure myself out.”

“It’s fine,” Noctis says, waving an impatient hand. “Just tell me what you decided.”

Prompto takes a deep breath. “The whole problem is whether or not I should believe I’m crazy for seeing you in my dreams and believing you’re my cat during the day, right?”

Noctis nods.

“Well, I’m fucking miserable and barely function without you,” Prompto says, giving a sad, awkward laugh. “I realised that maybe, believing impossible stuff doesn’t matter if you’re happier because of it. As long as you don’t hurt anyone, and I would never, you know that. The worst thing I’ll do is piss off Ignis and Gladio by accident.”

“And…?” Noctis prompts.

“And I want to be happy, so I’m choosing to keep going with this relationship, Noct. And if it really is you, and I’m really not crazy, I choose it for you too.”

“So you don’t believe it’s really me, but you want to keep doing this anyway?” Noctis says incredulously, folding his arms.

“No,” Prompto hastens to explain, “I think there’s no way to prove whether Ignis and Gladio or I am right about you because neither of us can convince the other to see their point of view. So I’m gonna accept the possibility that I could be wrong and you aren’t real, but keep going as if I fully believe in my judgement of the situation anyway, because I… I need you, Noct.”

Noctis tilts his head, digesting Prompto’s words. “You thought I was real, but they made you doubt it, but you’re gonna act like you still think I’m 100% real because you don’t actually care if you’re sane or not?”

“It’s not that I don’t care, it’s that I think I have the choice to be sane and depressed or insane and okay with life, so I’ll take insane and okay. I’m not questioning it any more,” Prompto says, shrugging. “I will be the crazy cat guy. It’s my fate.”

Despite Prompto’s little joke, Noctis just blinks. “You were wrong about something,” he says. Prompto tilts his head in question at him. “You _are_ strong,” Noctis says. “You’re stronger than you know.”

“It took me over 4 months to figure this out, Noct, and that’s not even counting the month and a half where you left the apartment.”

Noctis shakes his head. “I saw… I saw how hard you worked to figure this out. And how much it… hurt. I wish it wasn’t ‘cause of me. I wish I could just be a human again.”

He looks truly dismayed. Prompto takes a step towards him, wanting to hug him but still feeling hesitant and unsure as their battered relationship tries to knit itself back together after months of silence.

“It’s not your fault,” Prompto says. “You can’t help this situation any more than I can.”

“Come here,” Noctis says, reaching out with both hands. And then Prompto is throwing himself into Noctis’s arms, gasping as his tears of joy fall between kisses, because he feels like he’s home again, feels like he’s safe.

⁂

The next morning, Prompto informs Ignis and Gladio of his decision - they asked for his honesty, after all. They act very calm and composed - as if they had anticipated that he had started dreaming about Noctis again and had been bracing for it, he thinks. Then he goes out to check the mail, which apparently tricks them into thinking he’s gone out somewhere, because when he gets back inside he overhears Gladio’s voice coming from the bedroom. He’s speaking freely, in a way he likely would not do if he thought Prompto was still in the apartment.

“It feels like we’re failing him. But what can we do? We’re not godsdamn psychologists.”

“If Noctis were here,” Prompto hears Ignis answer, “I fear he would be quite… dismayed.”

“Because we’re not taking care of Prompto or because of Prompto’s delusions?”

“Both, I’m afraid.” Ignis sighs.

“Give us some credit,” Gladio says darkly. “He’s still alive.”

“I suppose I will do some more research. The first time he raised the idea that his cat could somehow be related to Noctis I scoured the Lestallum library with Talcott for texts on magic, but in none of them did I find anything to substantiate Prompto’s claims. The best sources on the subject are, I fear, lost in Insomnia.”

“Funny thing. I asked around all the Crownsguard and Kingsglaive we know and they didn’t know anything either. Don’t worry, I was vague about it. Didn’t want anyone giving Prompto a hard time. But what good is researching again gonna do?” Gladio asks. Prompto can’t see them through the closed door, but he imagines that Gladio has his arms folded as he speaks and that Ignis isn’t feigning eye contact with him at all, even though he usually knows perfectly well where people’s faces are despite being blind.

“This time,” Ignis says tightly, “I shall search for books on abnormal psychology. We are not qualified to treat him, as you said, but if he is or could become a danger to himself or others then we must be prepared for it.”

“Do you think he’s…?” Gladio asks, his voice trailing off.

“Right this moment?” Ignis says, and immediately answers himself. “No. I don’t don’t foresee any danger from him.”

“Except what he might be doing to that poor cat,” Gladio says, and there’s a low thread of humour in his voice.

“Gladio, please,” Ignis says, responding in kind. “He spoils the wretched animal within an inch of its life. I’m surprised it doesn’t have some kind of digestive condition with all the inappropriately rich food he gives it.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem,” Gladio replies with a chuckle. There’s a pause, and his serious tone returns. “I feel bad now for yelling at him. He was really hopeless without that… without Nyactis.”

“We must try to be more patient with him going forward.”

“Yeah, I’ll try. As long as he doesn’t bring it up too much. I don’t want to hear him acting like Noct is still here, when he’s… when he’s…”

“I know,” Ignis says in a low voice.

It is at this point that Prompto walks back into his room and closes the door with the quietest possible _click._

The eavesdropped conversation is surprising to Prompto in several ways. The first is the amount of care that Ignis and Gladio have apparently shown him without him knowing it. He thought they were totally unwilling to even consider he could be right about Nyactis, but apparently they _both_ did _research_ about it.

But perhaps the more important conclusion is that Ignis and Gladio are still grieving Noctis’s absence quite deeply. Prompto knew that, but he never thought that perhaps the reason they were so unwilling to believe what he was saying about Nyactis was _because_ of that grief.

It makes sense, though. They pinned what they saw as his weird behaviour on mourning, so he feels justified in doing the same to them. He only wishes he could make them more open to talking to Noctis in their dreams, because then they wouldn’t have to be so sad. But that ship has already sailed, if it was even a possibility to begin with. So Prompto resolves to do as Gladio hopes and remain as silent as possible on the subject of Nyactis and dream Noctis. It would be nice to have someone else to talk to about Noctis, but he’d rather be silent than ruin the tenuous peace between himself and his two friends.

⁂

“You know,” Prompto later realises, “we could have Nyactis write a word on the ground with his paw in front of Ignis and Gladio and then they’d HAVE to believe you’re Noctis.”

“I don’t know if anything could convince them at this point. But I’ll give it a try if you want,” Noctis says, sounding like he thinks it will definitely be a waste of time.

“I guess it doesn’t really matter,” Prompto says thoughtfully. He already knows where he stands. Trying to convince Ignis and Gladio that Nyactis is Noctis isn’t as important anymore. “But why didn’t we think of this before?”

“Hindsight’s 20/20,” Noctis quips with a shrug. “Also maybe ‘cause Ignis is blind. It wouldn’t work on him.”

Prompto frowns as he thinks. “You can tell me something only you would know, and I could dare them to ask me about it.”

“They’ll say you stole my diary,” Noctis says, and they both laugh. But still, thinking about Ignis and Gladio makes Prompto a little sad.

“I wish I could share this with them,” he says. “You’re their friend too. If they could talk to you, maybe they wouldn’t be so sad all the time. But the reason they can’t talk to you is _because_ they’re sad. It’s dumb.”

“I know. And I’m pissed at them on your behalf. They really messed you up.” Noctis says with a scowl.

“The world sucks and they miss you and they’re doing their best, right?” Prompto sighs.

“I know. But… I miss them too. Thank the Six _you_ listen to me,” Noctis says with feeling. Prompto hastens to give his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I won’t leave you,” he promises.

The first time Prompto felt he had made the right decision with regards to Nyactis and Noctis was when he opened the box in the kitchen that contained his cat and felt like a lost part of his being had been returned. The second time was upon seeing Noctis’s relief after he announced his decision to carry on as if he fully believed in him.

The third time is now. Even if dream Noctis is imaginary, which Prompto is still on the fence about, he still has _feelings._ Prompto never wants to hurt him again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Additional warnings for this fic (spoilers)  
> -Anything that's in the game is fair game to be in this fic, although there's no combat and no demons or monster action. Ignis is blind but the angst around his blindness and Luna's death are not mentioned.  
> -Gladio and Ignis cause Prompto to question/doubt his own sanity. This is not true gaslighting because there is no malicious intent behind it, but may feel the same to Prompto.  
> -Prompto and Noctis break up, but get back together and remain together for the rest of the fic.  
> -Ignis and Gladio often argue/disagree with Prompto in a way that makes him feel like they're ganging up on him. However, they only have his best interests at heart, even if they are angry and wrong. Eventually the three of them work out their issues.  
> -The epilogue of this fic takes place after Prompto and Noctis's death, but it's a happy ending because they will have eternity in the afterlife together. Feel free to skip the epilogue if that's not your jam.


	2. Part 2

And Prompto does keep his promise, for years and years. The sky remains dark. Cities are abandoned. Emergencies arise, are quashed, and arise again in endless cycles of panic and untrustworthy relief. Prompto grows his hair out long, cuts it, grows sideburns, shaves those, and starts on a beard which quickly turns into a soul patch of sorts. Noctis grows his hair long and tries various ponytail and bun looks, cuts it back to his shoulders again, grows a moustache - _only_ a moustache, no beard (Prompto has to laugh) - tries the sideburns look and fails, grows a beard, and gives up on facial hair altogether when Prompto tells him he looks like a moulting goat.

They are both growing older. But they’re growing up together.

Over time, their dreams become more complex, real, vivid, and long-lasting. They were always able to interact with objects in their dreams, but they start being able to create them by putting the dream through some kind of scenario. If they go to a restaurant, the food will be edible, although the place will be devoid of waiters or any other humans. To their delight, Noctis’s especially, they are actually able to go on dates, as long as the places they go to are places at least one of them has been to in real life. They try going to a movie theatre and find out that all the movies shown are versions of real movies that they _recall_ , which makes them inaccurate, foreshortened, full of plot holes, and altogether hilarious. Going to the “movies” becomes a favourite pass-time, although they mutually agree not to watch any movies where only one of them has a crush on an actor or character. Otherwise things get awkward.

Prompto once complains to Noctis, “Oh, man. Several people have asked me out, but I have to tell them I’m in a relationship. When they ask me with who, it gets kinda awkward. I can’t really say “My cat, who’s actually my hot best friend in my dreams.” What am I supposed to do?!”

Noctis just laughs at Prompto’s exaggerated frustration.

Unlike Noctis, Nyactis doesn’t appear to be ageing past his cat thirties, even though he was at least two years old when Prompto first found - met? him. Prompto wonders if Nyactis will live as long as a human would, but he supposes it doesn’t matter since Noctis was prophesied to return at some point, presumably back in his regular human body.

Resources for pets are scarce in the Dark World, so Nyactis subsists on Prompto’s meat/protein rations, or bread rations if the situation gets really desperate. Aside from Prompto’s regular hobby of photography, which is all experimental long exposures and artificial lighting these days, he also spends time making stuff for Nyactis - a handmade cat bed from some rags, a plushie or two that Nyactis doesn’t really need but which he’s very possessive of anyway, a little cat-sized blanket and pillow, any random thing Noctis asks for and Prompto has the resources to make. Noctis seems to like having all these things because it means he has possessions too, just like any other human. And Prompto is sure that Noctis also takes each item as it’s meant: a form of love expressed through the effort he spends to complete it. Nyactis even comes to enjoy playing with toys made of feathers and string, although he still glares at Prompto at any mention of a laser pointer. When pressed about it, he says, “It’s fun. It’s like combat training, but for cats.”

Although Noctis bears up well as a cat, his inability to speak during the day frustrates him sometimes, and he’ll go off and be alone for a little while like a real cat, then come to Prompto at night and do all the day’s communication in a dream. The two of them also work out a pretty good “language” of sorts - short chirp for “yes”, doleful meow for “no”, different head, paw, and tail positions for other various important communications. Prompto’s pretty certain that a soft paw pressed to his cheek means “I love you,” but he can never get Noctis to admit it.

During this time, Prompto, Ignis, and Gladio spend less and less time together as well. Their combined expertise by this point is formidable and needs to be spread around. Prompto does actually miss them, and he’s grateful every day that he has Nyactis by day and Noctis at night to keep him company on the road.

He knows it won’t last forever. Human Noctis is prophesied to return at some point to end the Dark World. But truth be told, Prompto would be happy to spend the rest of his life like this. It might be a weird relationship, but for all its difficulties, it works. And human Noctis’s return will be a day of reckoning for him. A day to find out if he’s been right or wrong to believe in dream Noctis all these years, and possibly lose him. Prompto isn’t eager to hasten that day.

But life in the Dark World is by necessity focused on the present, on survival. So he puts _that day_ out of his mind and it’s in this way that seven more years pass. So when _that day_ finally comes, it hits Prompto like a blundering garula out of nowhere.

⁂

The dream that brings their idyll-amid-the-ruins to a close takes place at a sunset Galdin Quay. They’ve had quite a few beach dates here, gone fishing and swum in the ocean, made s’mores at the haven and taken full advantage of the empty hotel and restaurant. But tonight, Prompto can tell Noctis is in a serious mood because of the way he’s just standing by the water’s edge, looking out over the ocean, his shoulders set tense.

“Everything okay?” Prompto says, coming up beside him.

Noctis doesn’t reply immediately, still watching the water stretching out to the horizon.

“I have news,” he says at length. Prompto patiently waits, hoping it’s his imagination that the missing word from that sentence isn’t _bad_ as in _bad news_.

“I’m coming back to fulfil the prophecy,” Noctis says.

“You’re what?” Prompto exclaims. Noctis coming back as in returning to his human form? _Now?_

“Not for long,” Noctis says, looking uncomfortable. “It’s only gonna be for a few days.” He takes a deep breath. “And I… I don’t know what’ll happen after.”

Prompto’s body feels like it’s just been drenched in ice. He doesn’t know what Noctis is getting at, but his tone of voice alone is terrifying. So painfully, deeply resigned. “You mean like… Noct. Be real with me?”

Noctis looks down at the sand, scuffing it beneath his boots. “I’m gonna die… but I don’t know if it’ll be permanent. There’s a chance I’ll be able to escape back into my cat body after.”

Prompto’s breath leaves him in a rush. “Um. Okay. Is there something. Is there anything I can do?”

“No. It just has to happen,” Noctis says, and if there’s resignation in his tone, there’s sadness there too.

“I don’t want you to die, Noct,” Prompto says, panicked, grabbing Noctis by the shoulders. Noctis pulls him into a tight hug.

“I know,” he says, and swallows. His voice is low and miserable. “But I _have_ to.” His voice drops to a whisper. “I want to give you back the sun.”

“What?” Prompto says, his throat tight.

“I want the Dark World to end. I want to give you back the sun. And the stars and the moon. And sunrises, and sunsets. I’m the only one who can do that. And I won’t let you live without them anymore. Then you can take photos again.”

Prompto appreciates that clearly Noctis has thought about this a lot, and the romantic sentiment in what Noctis is saying deeply touches his heart. But it’s so bittersweet it hurts.

“But can’t it wait until you’re old and about to die anyway?” Prompto pleads.

“No. It has to be now,” Noctis says, stroking the back of Prompto’s head. “But if I do die… I’ll wait for you in the afterlife, okay? This doesn’t have to be the end.”

“You’ll wait for me?” Prompto says.

“I’ll be there,” Noctis promises. Prompto knows that having to wait until he dies of natural causes to see Noctis again would be… difficult, at best. But if they have no choice, if that’s the best they can get, he’ll take it.

Maybe he should be panicking now. Maybe he should be breaking down and sobbing, begging Noctis to stay. But the last time he thought Noctis was lost to him, he came back as a cat. If Noctis thinks there’s a chance for his death to be only temporary, Prompto just has to have faith in him. He’s already used to this sort of Schroedinger situation where he doesn’t know whether one of two outcomes (Prompto sane or insane, Noctis about to die forever or about to die only temporarily) is real. He can live with one more scarily unresolved relationship situation in his life, because he’s had so much practice already.

And if Noctis _has_ to do this… Prompto doesn’t want to make it harder for him. He doesn’t want Noctis’s last memories of him to be of him suffering, grieving.

What all of this means is that Prompto has to be brave. If Noctis really does die, he doesn’t know what he will do. But for now, he can continue to stand tall even under the knowledge that one day soon… well, never mind thinking about it.

“Okay, Noct,” he whispers. “I’ll wait for you, too.”

“No,” Noctis replies. “If I really die, live your life. Date someone else, I don’t care.” Prompto can tell he _does_ care, but that doesn’t even factor into his reply.

“No,” Prompto says in turn. “It’s you or nothing. I’m waiting for you and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Noctis lets out a strained laugh and kisses him, the taste of his mouth bittersweet. They spend the rest of the dream just sitting together on the beach, holding each other close.

They’ve had nine years together. That’s more than Prompto ever thought he would have.

⁂

One thing about Noctis returning to fulfil the prophecy is that aside from the whole possibility of perma-death which Prompto is doing his best to completely avoid thinking about, seeing human Noctis again means finally, finally getting a confirmation or denial of whether or not all of Prompto’s dreams of him were real. If he really did hallucinate dream Noctis all these years, he’ll just keep his mouth shut and hate himself in private. It’s actually comforting to him when Nyactis disappears the day after their discussion of Noctis’s return, because if Nyactis is Noctis the two can’t be with him at the same time, human _and_ cat.

An awkward conversation ensues that afternoon:

“Guys,” Prompto says over the phone on a group call with Ignis and Gladio, “I think you should know… Noct is coming back soon.”

“How do you know?” Gladio dares to ask.

Prompto swallows. “I know you guys don’t like me to talk about it, but Noct told me in a dream. I know you don’t believe those are real, but if he really _is_ coming back it would be wrong for me to not let you know about it.”

There’s silence on the other end, and then Ignis says, “Thank you for thinking of us.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome,” Prompto says, and the call swiftly ends.

⁂

In fact, it takes a full month for Noctis to return. But it’s one month to the day exactly when Prompto gets the call from Gladio: _Talcott picked Noctis up from Galdin Quay this morning. Should be arriving in Hammerhead in a couple of hours. Steal a car, hitchhike, I don_ _’t care. Just be there._

Galdin Quay… Prompto remembers Noctis telling him that Nyactis came from there too, and his heart beats with hope. He’s actually on his way to the Cape Caem chocobo stable to check on the surviving captive birds and the anti-daemon security measures. Keeping chocobos from going extinct in the region is extremely important to Prompto, naturally, and it’s not often he gets a chance to go to the cape and check on them personally. But of course, he immediately turns around and drives to Hammerhead as fast as he possibly can.

When he arrives, Gladio is sitting at one of the two booths in Takka’s diner that doesn’t have crates of supplies piled on it. Prompto silently takes a seat next to him, and soon after Ignis also arrives and convinces them it’s time to wait outside.

They don’t speak, each of them silently contemplating Noctis’s return. Prompto desperately misses Nyactis, which he knows is ironic, but it would be so nice to have that comforting, reassuring presence sitting perched on his shoulder right about now.

Talcott’s truck pulls up. Noctis steps out.

Prompto’s breath is immediately driven out of him. Noctis looks exactly the same as he did the last time Prompto saw him in a dream. _Exactly_ the same. Same outfit, same messy, layered hair that’s longer towards the back, clean-shaven face, a little bit tired.

Ignis and Gladio take hesitant steps towards Noctis, but Prompto is rooted to the spot, eyes locked with Noctis’s.

“Hey guys,” Noctis says, his eyes finally flicking away from Prompto’s, “miss me?”

With that, Prompto starts to walk towards him, stopping a few feet away to watch as Noctis hugs Ignis and Gladio in turn. Then, he turns to Prompto, who is still frozen stiff, transfixed with love and fear. It’s like the moment so long ago right before he opened a cardboard box to discover his cat safe and sound inside. So much depends on what happens next.

“Hey, Noct,” Prompto says shakily, raising one hand in a half-hearted wave.

In response, Noctis leans in close and whispers two words into his ear: “Meow, baby.”

It’s so unexpected that Prompto bursts out laughing as Noctis draws back with a smirk. Before Noctis can get away, Prompto throws his arms around him in a hug. He has so many questions he needs to ask and things he needs to say, but he knows now that it’s going to be okay.

Ignis and Gladio look mystified, neither of them having heard what Noctis said to Prompto. But their confusion dissolves and the joy between the four becomes palpable as Noctis pulls the two of them in for a group hug.

⁂

The first thing Noctis says to Prompto after they’re alone in Cid and Cindy’s guest room is, “So yeah, I was Nyactis.”

Even though Prompto already had an inkling of that - “ _Meow, baby,_ ” indeed - a decade of past dreams suddenly crowds for space in his mind as he considers the implications of what Noctis is saying. “You’re serious?”

Of course he’s serious; he couldn’t have learnt Prompto thinks he was Nyactis from anyone else because Prompto hasn’t let him out of his sight since he arrived at Hammerhead, and Talcott doesn’t know.

“Yup,” Noctis replies.

“We should tell Ignis and Gladio! They still think I’m crazy. They’ll finally have to believe me.”

Noctis shakes his head. “No,” he says. “This is only for us now.” Taking a step forward, he tenderly cradles Prompto’s face with both hands in a now-familiar gesture. Prompto swallows.

“Okay,” he whispers.

“Thank you,” Noctis says. “Thanks for choosing me.” His breath is hot on Prompto’s face. Then, his lips are pressing against Prompto’s own, sweet and familiar and tasting like home.

Prompto kisses back. And then he starts laughing. What was he expecting? A life-changing experience? Fireworks to explode? Kissing Noctis feels like it _always has_ , because every second he spent doubting himself, his relationship with Noctis was gloriously real. _That_ _’s_ the life-changing part of it.

“What’s so funny?” Noctis says, disgruntled.

“I love you,” Prompto half laughs, half sobs. “I love you, I love you, I love you!”

Noctis takes Prompto into his arms and holds him as tightly as he can. “I love you too,” he says. “I love you too.”

For a good few minutes, Prompto continues to laugh and cry, whispering his love to Noctis between breaths. He really does feel like he’s lost his mind, for real this time. When he begins to regain control over himself, he presses his face into the crook of Noctis’s neck and breathes in deep. The scent of him is so familiar and wonderful in that familiarity that he almost breaks again, but instead he rubs Noctis’s back and takes another breath. It’s calming.

Noctis seems content to just hold him - he probably doesn’t want to disturb Prompto’s mental stability any further - but now that Prompto’s calmed down, he feels more sane than he has in years. He doesn’t want to waste a single second he has with Noctis. Even if these aren’t their last days together, they’re probably their last days where Noctis is human at all times, instead of just in Prompto’s dreams.

“Noct,” Prompto says shyly. “I… do you want to spend the night with me?”

Noctis kisses the top of Prompto’s head. “Yeah, of course.”

Everything they need to say to each other has already been said. _In a dream,_ Prompto can hardly believe - so they don’t need to use this time to talk. Being close to Noctis is definitely the best thing he can think of right now.

“Feels weird now that it’s not in our dreams anymore,” Prompto admits, drawing back.

Noctis looks a little bashful. “Yeah. Same for me.”

Prompto smiles, loving Noctis so much in this moment that it feels like his heart will burst.

“Come on,” he says. “Take my real world virginity.”

Noctis laughs, and kisses him slow and sweet. Soon they’re entwined together on the bed. They take their time with each other, relearning each other’s bodies as if new, cherishing each other.

_This is real_ , Prompto reminds himself throughout. _All of this is real._

Afterwards, Prompto has to hold back tears as he holds Noctis in his arms. It’s always felt real in dreams, but there is something special about this night. Maybe it’s because now there is finally no doubt, not of Noctis nor of himself, only love and joy and peace. For a moment, the future seems distant and no longer makes him afraid.

⁂

The morning after, Prompto walks to the diner with Noctis to meet up with Ignis and Gladio again. Knowing what they soon will set out to do, he’s in a serious, businesslike mood. But he walks with new confidence in his steps for the first time in years. Noctis notices his stride and says, “You look like the cat that got the cream.”

Prompto groans and socks him on the shoulder.

When they arrive, Ignis and Gladio have some raised eyebrows for them. They surely know that Prompto spent the night with Noctis since he never returned to the caravan that the three of them were supposed to be staying in. But he and Noctis only make conversation about Ignis and Gladio’s lives before preparing to head to Insomnia. Noctis is very interested in Gladio’s _fianc_ _ée_. For their own behaviour, they make no explanation.

Prompto kinda hopes Ignis and Gladio are _wondering._

It takes them another day to prepare for their trip to Insomnia, and Prompto spends the night with Noctis again. This time, they actually try to sleep, to prepare for the hard road ahead. Still, this is the first time Prompto has held human Noctis as they sleep since before they became a couple. It’s not possible for them to do it in dreams because going to sleep in a dream wakes them both up to the real world. For this reason, it’s another memory to cherish.

When they arrive at the Citadel, the photo Noctis picks is one of all four of them, but one where Prompto’s arm is around his shoulders.

And after Prompto, Ignis and Gladio have peeled themselves off the floor of the throne room from Ardyn’s induced sleep, they say their goodbyes in the cold, dark rain that’s falling.

“So this is farewell,” Ignis says to break the painful silence that’s stretching between the four of them.

_No,_ Prompto wants to say. _No, it_ _’s not. It doesn’t have to be, Noct said!_

“Yeah. I guess it is,” Noctis replies. Prompto really hopes that “guess” encompasses the potential of Nyactis coming back, or at least Noctis waiting for him in the afterlife. Right now, that’s the only thing he’s holding on to: Noctis’s promise to wait.

“It’s all you,” says Gladio, and Noctis nods.

Prompto and Noctis’s eyes lock for a moment, but Prompto doesn’t actually manage to work up the courage to say anything until Noctis has uncertainly turned around to go.

There are tears in Prompto’s voice as he says, “No turning back now.”

Noctis pauses. Relents. Turns back after all.

“Ignis,” he says, holding out a hand. When Ignis takes it, he clasps Ignis’s hand in both of his.

“Gladio,” he says, turning to Gladio and giving him a hug.

And when he says Prompto’s name, he puts an arm around Prompto’s waist, slips a hand behind his head, and dips him into a passionate kiss. Prompto thinks maybe he hears a choked sound from Gladio but he doesn’t care. Letting himself be cradled in Noctis’s arms, he kisses back with the force of all the love of their nine precious years together.

“Don’t go,” he whispers, breath huffing out between the two of them, their faces still so close together.

“I have to,” Noctis says miserably. “For you,” he whispers. “For everyone.” He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and slowly raises Prompto back up, their foreheads still pressed together. “But remember what I promised.”

“I remember,” Prompto says, voice nearly breaking. Noctis brushes some raindrops from his face, kisses him, and then finally starts climbing the Citadel steps again.

“Goodbye,” he says. Prompto can only watch as he disappears into the Citadel doors and is gone. Respectively watching and listening, Gladio and Ignis also observe Noctis leave in silence.

Prompto _knows_ that they must be wondering, now.

Prompto’s heart wants time to mourn, but his body and mind have to deal with the horde of daemons that descends upon them as soon as Noctis is gone. Beside him, Gladio and Ignis fight, bringing down daemon after monstrous daemon, protecting him and watching his back just as he does for them.

⁂

The first thing they see are the stars - one by one, suddenly winking back into sight. The sky lights up with a scattering of fiery points, first one or two and then great handfuls of them at once, then hundreds. It’s so beautiful that Prompto and Gladio stand transfixed, explaining to Ignis the miracle their eyes are seeing.

Then, they notice that in the east, there’s a blush of grey-pink staining the sky. The sun is rising. Noctis gave them back the stars and he gave them back the dawn, just as he promised, and everything else is sure to follow. If it weren’t for what Noctis himself lost, what Prompto lost, it would be the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen in his life.

It’s time to go see what has become of Noctis.

When Prompto walks into the throne room, his heart stops. He _knew_ Noctis was going to die, he was prepared for it, and _he has a promise_. But seeing his crumpled, impaled, lifeless body is just… Prompto feels a sword try to go through _his_ chest, and it’s all he can do to keep from dropping to his knees.

But Prompto knows he _will_ see Noctis again, whether it’s to be in cat form, soon, or in human form in the afterlife, a lot later.

But which one is it going to be?

Prompto hasn’t doubted the future this much since that time eight years ago he almost broke up with Noctis because Ignis and Gladio thought dream Noctis wasn’t real. He _was_ real. Every minute, every second he spent with Noctis in his dreams, he was with his real, actual best friend and love of his life. And now that he finally, finally has confirmation of that, Noctis is possibly gone forever.

Yet Prompto doesn’t weep as he numbly helps Ignis and Gladio remove the sword from Noctis’s chest, carry him between them to the closest bedroom in the Citadel, and lay him on a comfortable bed instead of that horrible, hard throne Prompto wants dearly to burn.

He doesn’t know if he’ll see Noctis tomorrow or in decades. When he tries really hard it doesn’t _feel_ like Noctis is gone, but for a long time he’s had difficulty trusting his perception of his own experiences surrounding Noctis and the emotions relating to them. So, he soldiers on despite his uncertainties, keeping his mental promise to Noctis to be brave.

_You_ are _strong,_ he remembers Noctis saying. _You_ _’re stronger than you know_.

And in turn he thinks, _Please come back. Please come back to me, Noct._

⁂

A few days later, Noctis’s body is cremated. Normally he’d be interred in a secluded tomb slash shrine as his most powerful ancestors were, but there is none prepared for him, nor even a location for one, and they can’t just leave him around to - ugh - decompose, so they build a funeral pyre for him in the square in front of the Citadel. They place a piece of metal underneath the pyre to act as a tray to catch the ashes, which will be put into an urn they found in the Citadel which is really just a once-expensive vase. They plan to save the ashes in the urn until an anniversary of Noctis’s death when he can finally be interred in a tomb as magnificent as those of his ancestors.

They’re lighting the funeral pyre when Prompto feels something brush against his leg and is startled into looking down. There, sitting on the cold grey pavement beside him, is a black cat with blue eyes. Prompto feels like he can’t breathe.

Nyactis looks up at Prompto, and when they make eye contact a spark seems to pass between them. _Sweet Six_ , it’s really him. Prompto’s knees go weak and he starts blinking rapidly to push down his tears of relief. He longs to scoop Nyactis up into his arms, but if it looks like he’s crying over his cat at Noctis’s cremation, his friendship with Ignis and Gladio may actually be over.

Breaking their shared gaze, Nyactis sits down on Prompto’s feet. The familiar, comforting weight of him soothes Prompto’s soul in ways he didn’t even know were possible. Then, Noctis turns his gaze to the funeral pyre.

[Goodbye to me,] Prompto hears in his mind in a familiar voice that’s decidedly not his own.

[So you’re telepathic now,] he thinks to Noctis. [Cool, cool, my life can’t get any weirder.]

[Oh holy shit,] he hears. [I’m telepathic now!]

Nyactis sounds just as freaked out as Prompto feels. Prompto fixes his eyes on the funeral pyre in front of him - with Noctis’s, real, actual, shrouded, dead human body on top - and forces himself to remain calm. How the fuck is he supposed to make it through another half hour of this? Everybody looks like they’re about to start sobbing over Noctis’s tragic demise, and the bastard is sitting right there on his feet _talking to him with magic_. If Prompto ruins Noctis’s cremation for Ignis, Gladio, and the few people who made it to Insomnia for it _because_ of Noctis, he is going to murder him, defenceless little kitty cat or not.

[Do. Not. Talk,] he thinks as hard as he can in Noctis’s direction. [If Ignis and Gladio see you, or I start laughing at you, it’s over for both of us.]

Noctis seems to take his advice seriously, doing his best statue impression and not making a peep. Prompto watches the fire in grim silence, desperate to get away. The second it seems appropriate for him to leave, he grabs Nyactis and books it to the bedroom he’s been sleeping in at the Citadel. Let them think he’s gone off to cry or something; he doesn’t care. Instead what he does is toss Nyactis on the bed - he’s a cat, he’ll be fine - then lock the door and shut the curtains, leaving the only source of light a hand-cranked camping lantern on the bedside table, since the Citadel still doesn’t have electricity.

Turning to Nyactis, he says, his voice mounting higher on every syllable, “You’re telepathic now?!”

There’s a long pause as Nyactis looks up at him with wide kitty eyes. Should Prompto even be calling him “Nyactis” any more? This telepathy thing is going to change up everything, he can already tell.

[…Yes?]

Prompto drops down onto the bed in a sitting position with a huff and a bounce of the mattress.

“Any explanations for this one, Salem?”

[Salem?]

“Sabrina the Teenage - never mind, what the fuck is going on?”

Noctis thinks in private for a long time. Then he thinks to Prompto, [I actually have no idea. It might have something to do with my body not being in the Crystal any more, and my spirit more fully inhabiting this cat, but - I dunno.]

Prompto takes a deep breath. “Just tell me this is real,” he mutters.

[Of course it is,] Noctis thinks, concerned. He butts his head against Prompto’s hand and insinuates himself between Prompto’s arm and his body, starting to purr.

Prompto gives in and finally snatches Nyactis up into his arms, burying his face in Noctis’s soft fur. Nyactis smells the same as his cat form always has - clean short-hair cat - and Prompto begins to feel better. Noctis isn’t dead. Noctis is here with him. Everything is going to be okay.

“Fine,” Prompto says, voice muffled by Noctis’s side. “If it’s real, how’d you get here? The Crystal is dead.”

[Angelgard,] Noctis explains. [I wound up at Galdin Quay again and hitched another ride with Talcott to Hammerhead. I had to walk the rest of the way.]

[I was so scared,] Prompto thinks, unable to say the words out loud although he knows that his pain will be evident to Noctis through his thoughts.

[I’m here,] Noctis says, still purring loudly. Prompto takes a deep breath, and a few tears slip out from beneath his closed eyelids. His breath hitches. Noctis is here; everything is going to be okay.

_Thank the Six, thank the Six, thank the Six._

They stay like that for long minutes, Prompto letting Nyactis’s purring and familiar scent calm him. As Prompto begins to feel better, Nyactis squirms a little. Prompto relaxes his hold to let Nyactis press his upper body against his chest and shoulder in a sort of hug, his paws draped over Prompto’s shoulder.

“You know what this means?” Prompto says when he’s fully regained possession of himself. He feels calm, at peace. He still doesn’t know what kind of future he and Noctis will have, but thank the gods the worst case scenario has been avoided. He doesn’t have to wait until his own death to see Noctis again. He _is_ here.

_[What does it mean?]_

“It means you did it. You fulfilled the prophecy. No more fate or destiny for you… for us. We… we’re _free_.”

Prompto feels his heart beat faster. For the first time in ten years, he feels a special kind of hope he barely remembers from his teenage years - the kind of hope where the future is an open door, filled with promise and possibility, alive and beautiful and new.

[Oh,] Noctis thinks. His mental voice sounds confused. [I… I don’t know what to do. Are we gonna stay in Insomnia?]

Prompto smiles, giving Noctis’s back a comforting stroke. He’s actually been thinking about this, about what he could do if Noctis did indeed return, though it was a rather theoretical daydream up until this moment. “I have an idea that I think you’re gonna like…”

⁂

A few days after Noctis’s human ashes have been safely seen into their ornamental urn (vase), Prompto gets Gladio and Ignis’s consent to leave Insomnia and start a project of his own. Though they say they could use him in the city, that would be true for anywhere in Lucis since the whole country is a construction zone. And truth be told, he’s uncomfortable around them at the moment since they’re so sad about Noctis and he’s got the actual, living Noctis riding around on his shoulder every day in the form of a telepathic cat.

So instead, they drive south, to Galdin Quay.

When they arrive, the sight of the evening sun (the _sun_!) sparkling over the water takes Prompto’s breath away. He and Nyactis stand transfixed, taking in the reds and oranges painting the sky and the waves. Although it’s a sight both he and Noctis have seen in their shared dreams, there’s just something more visceral and majestic about seeing it in real life. It’s almost painful in its unanticipated, unprecedented beauty.

“Guess we live here now,” Prompto says softly.

Nyactis chirps. Then he thinks, [Fuck, I forgot I can talk now.]

Prompto laughs and ruffles Nyactis’s fur, and the spell is broken.

They’ve come here for two reasons. One, the reason they gave to Ignis and Gladio: to revitalise Lucis’s fishing industry, ferry connection with Accordo, and eventually the tourism industry as well. The second, more personal reason is that Noctis still loves catching fish, even as a cat, and Prompto can’t think of anywhere better for the two of them to figure out the rest of their lives together than this paradisaical ocean bay.


	3. Part 3

Well, okay. Upon further inspection, it’s not quite paradisaical yet. When they first arrive, their options for lodging are:

a) the old resort, which, aside from being grimly decorated with the possessions and clothing of those lost to the scourge there, as well as various interesting kinds of dirt, also looks like it might fall into the ocean at any moment.

b) a battered old camper which _also_ contains scourge artefacts and smells heavily of mould and seawater.

c) the old haven, which has also acquired a layer of dirt and no longer glows a comforting blue now that the magic of kings and oracles has faded from Lucis.

So naturally, they spend the first night there in their car - a questionable clunker itself, but at least one that’s clean. This is easier on the back of the one of the two of them who isn’t fully human-sized. The next day, they write the camper off as a loss, sweep the dirt from the haven, and deploy their tent and inflatable mattress.

“Gladio is _so_ gonna say “I told you so” because we ended up using the tent,” Prompto comments, examining his handiwork.

Nyactis touches his nose to the side of the air mattress. [I better not put a claw through this thing,] he grumbles.

Observing Nyactis’s posture, Prompto teases, “You get more catlike every day, did you know that?” Nyactis looks up at him with wide eyes, like Noctis is in there having an identity crisis. Prompto only laughs, knowing that Nyactis is fucking with him. They’ve had this conversational bit before.

They make it through the night without Nyactis puncturing the mattress. The next day, Prompto sets to repairing the boardwalk from the beach to the resort. Nyactis informs him that it was fine just a few weeks ago when he boated over from Angelgard, but since it’s sort of essential to getting to the resort, they need to be extra sure that it won’t fail out from under them at any moment. Fortunately, it was well-constructed, and they can cannibalise the old fishing shack on the shore for lumber if need be.

Noctis provides moral support. It takes three days just to finish the boardwalk, and Prompto does feel a small sense of dread when he looks at the resort and thinks of all the work it will take to get it back into habitable shape. But then, he realises: he has literally the rest of his life to do it. He can take all the time in the world.

It’s still a miracle, and Noctis was the one who caused it. It doesn’t matter if he can’t hammer boards and sweat alongside Prompto. He already did his bit.

After they finish with the boardwalk, they begin the basic tasks of cleaning the resort and determining what structural work needs to be done, and in what order. Nyactis does help with this by sniffing out various flaws with the building, getting into nooks and crannies Prompto can’t reach to search for mould, bugs, or just things that are broken.

[It’s a dirty job, but someone’s gotta do it,] Nyactis says, crawling out from behind an oven in the resort’s old kitchen, covered in grime. He accidentally tries to chuckle aloud, which only produces a weird series of _mrrp_ s.

“Don’t do that,” says Prompto absently, pulling a shoe out from under the fridge. It’s a child’s shoe. Part of the cleaning process is reverently removing the possessions of the fallen and placing them together in the old dining area. What they’ll ultimately do with them Prompto doesn’t know, although some kind of memorial is definitely in order.

[Oh…] Noctis examines the shoe for a moment, then dips his head with closed eyes. Prompto does the same. His heart clenches for a moment. It’s always hard, knowing that so many people died, but they don’t grieve as outwardly as they used to anymore. Still, they like to show respect.

⁂

Weeks pass. They focus their attentions in the resort on the bedroom they’d like to sleep in, the kitchens, and two bathrooms. There is also the all-encompassing structural rebuilding, which necessitates shipments of building materials from Insomnia. Sometimes people stop by to lend a hand, including Talcott and Iris. As long as Prompto dodges conversations about Noctis’s death, he gets along with them great.

Prompto is taking a break from fixing a spot on the roof, leaning against a railing looking out over the ocean with a nice, cold glass of juice in one hand, courtesy of Talcott. (Of course, none of the soda plants and the breweries were able to stay open during the long night. Fruit trees, though? Some of them survived in the greenhouses.) Nyactis is sitting on the railing beside him as they watch the ocean and enjoy the breeze, which is cooling after Prompto’s hard work. The sounds of Talcott and one of his friends hammering on the roof fills the air, and one of Nyactis’s ears flicks. Prompto smiles, but says nothing.

[It’s nice to have company,] Noctis comments. He sighs. [Wish I could help more with the construction, though.]

[You help plenty,] Prompto thinks back, not wanting to alert any of their guests that he’s talking to his cat. He shoots Nyactis a look. They’ve already had this conversation. Nyactis knows what that look means. It means “listen to Prompto, who is always right and who loves you very much and doesn’t care if you don’t have opposable thumbs.”

Noctis is silent for a moment, and Prompto sips his juice.

[Do you think Ignis and Gladio will visit too?] Noctis thinks at length.

[I don’t see why not.] Prompto frowns. [I can send an invite to Insomnia with Talcott if you want.]

Nyactis shakes his head, his gaze unusually melancholy for such a nice day. Prompto holds out his hand and Nyactis glances at it, then gives it a cursory headbutt.

[I just… I’ve been thinking about them.]

Prompto knows what he means. In the new bright days and soft nights when they have only each other and the sound of the ocean between them, things start to look a little empty in the spaces where Ignis and Gladio used to be. But if the question of how to make a life together with Nyactis is hard, imagining a life with an unbelieving Ignis and Gladio is even harder. Now that they have the time, now that they have the life, and now that Prompto knows with absolute certainty that he’s not insane and never was, the wounds left by old yearnings are starting to try and reopen themselves.

[If it’s just us forever, we would be okay, right?] Prompto asks.

Nyactis headbutts Prompto’s hand again, this time with a certain amount of tenderness. [Yeah. Of course, we would be okay.]

⁂

While the reconstruction of the ex-resort is in progress, Noctis and Prompto’s dream relationship is also flourishing. One night Prompto opens his eyes in the dream to find himself in a lush green forest, amid trees and vegetation. In front of him, the ground falls away, and there is a view of blue sky, and clouds. The air is a little chilly.

“Where are we?” he says, turning to Noctis, who’s leaning against a tree and looking smug.

“Don’t you recognise it? It’s one of Tenebrae’s floating islands.”

Prompto shakes his head, coming over to give Noctis a playful punch in the shoulder. “Yeah, right. You’ve never been there.”

“I know, but I’ve seen it on TV. Look over the edge. You’ll see I’m right.”

Raising an eyebrow at Noctis, Prompto goes to the place where earth meets sky and looks down. As Noctis said, there is _absolutely nothing_ beneath them. Miles below, there’s something that vaguely looks like ocean.

Prompto gapes. “How do you do these things?”

“I don’t know, but I did it. I’m gonna try and get us to Altissia’s ancient ruins next. Wanna go on a date there?”

“Forget Altissia, if we can go to places we’ve only seen on TV I want to visit the freaking Millenium Falcon,” Prompto says, clenching his fists.

Noctis pauses. Prompto can tell the same thought is occurring to him: it’s one thing to “visit” a real world location, but another to conjure up an entirely fictional one - or would they end up on a movie set?

“Uh… Okay, sure,” says Noctis, tossing his head airily.

Prompto knows Noctis isn’t actually sure, but he chooses to believe in him anyway. “Hell yeah!” he says. “I wanna sit in the cockpit and the gun turret. Why can’t we take real pictures in our dreams?”

Noctis sighs. “I know, right. I ask myself that every night.”

The two eventually decide to take a walk through the forest and explore the floating island, but Prompto is too excited at the prospect of all the fictional places they could visit to really focus on anything other than that, conversation-wise.

Indeed, visiting places they’ve never been to soon becomes a staple of their dreams and of course, their dates. These places are, of course, not perfect replicas of the real world, since they are influenced by both Noctis and Prompto’s perception of them. But still, it’s an impressive feat of dreaming. Prompto wonders whether Noctis will someday be able to just invent dream places straight out his imagination…

⁂

Six months in, Ignis and Gladio finally do come to Galdin Quay. Officially, they are there to assist Prompto in determining what it will take to get the ferry to Accordo up and running again. There are small boats crossing from Lucis to Altissia via Cape Caem for various important business every week, but the two countries would benefit greatly from a re-establishment of the official pathway between them.

Since they first arrived, Noctis and Prompto have made major improvements to Galdin Quay. Well, Prompto and friends did most of the physical labour. Noctis helped keep Prompto’s spirits up, and occasionally caught fish in the ocean, a feat he is ridiculously proud of. The entire hotel is clean now thanks to their combined efforts, and no longer at risk of falling into the sea.

Their next task, aside from the ferry project, will be to make all of the rooms in the hotel livable and enjoyable instead of merely clean and free of structural deficits. Additionally, Prompto has plans to make the entire place as accessible to Nyactis as possible. It will make the place hell for any future owners with a non-intelligent cat, but that doesn’t matter. This is _their_ home, now.

⁂

The first day Ignis and Gladio arrive, Nyactis silently observes them from the shadows, giving no indication of his presence. No meowing, not even a yawn, and he oozes through the room with the kind of silent grace that only a cat can display. Prompto senses that maybe something is going on with him, but he doesn’t ask. Sometimes Noctis needs time to think about things, and Prompto has learnt when to give him space.

It takes a few more nights, but eventually Noctis brings it up in a dream.

“Prompto… do you think that I should tell Ignis and Gladio I’m still alive?”

Prompto has been thinking about this himself since that day he drank juice with Nyactis while the roof was being built.

“Yeah, we should, but… you said that knowing you really were Nyactis was just for us now,” he says finally. “What changed your mind?”

“Me being human was only for you,” Noctis explains. “If I told Ignis and Gladio that I really was Nyactis while I was at Hammerhead, they would’ve wanted my attention the whole time to ask questions and apologise and stuff. But now that I’m still alive, there’s enough time to explain it that it won’t take away from what I have with you. That’s okay, right?” Noctis peers nervously at Prompto through his overlong fringe, as if he’s actually worried Prompto might feel neglected if Noctis _dares_ to try and communicate with Ignis or Gladio.

Prompto smiles, clasping Noctis’s hand reassuringly. “Of course it is. I wonder if you can be telepathic with them too.”

“I doubt it,” Noctis says. “We spent like every dream together for eight years. That’s not gonna happen with me and anyone else.”

“Well, it would be fine with me if it _did_ happen,” Prompto says, wanting to reassure Noctis. Even though Nyactis is in some ways “his” “pet”, he’s perfectly aware that he doesn’t actually own him. “I’ll help you try and tell them,” he says. “Just tell me what to do.”

Noctis smiles. “Thanks,” he says, giving Prompto’s hand a squeeze. “I think I already know what to do, but it’s good to have you at my side. Tomorrow.”

⁂

The next morning, the three human residents of the Quay are enjoying a delicious Ignis-quality meal when a black shadow detaches itself from the doorway and trots over to the table. In case Gladio isn’t feeling visually observant and Ignis isn’t feeling orally observant, he then proceeds to jump up onto the breakfast table. Both Ignis and Gladio flinch, surprised.

“Your cat is here?” Gladio says, disbelieving. “Thought he disappeared or something.”

“He came back,” Prompto says simply.

“Must you shed directly into the butter?” Ignis chides the cat as his hand brushes between cat and butter dish. Nyactis immediately moves several inches out of the way.

“I know the table is cramped, but… he likes to be tall,” Prompto comments with a smile. Nyactis chirps in amusement.

“Is he truly the same cat as in the Dark World?” Ignis says.

“Yup. Still the same cat. Still Nyactis,” Prompto says giving an awkward laugh. He knows what comes next.

“And you still…?”

Prompto gives a helpless shrug. “Yes,” he says. “And just so you know, Nyactis is telepathic now, so…”

Ignis and Gladio glance at each other, and Prompto looks away, not wanting to see the doubt and pity that surely will be written across their faces. Nyactis paws at his hand and when Prompto looks down, he sees that Nyactis is doing his cute face that’s guaranteed to make him smile.

[ _Thanks for the moral support, babe_ ,] he thinks to Noctis. He needs it less than when he used to absolutely rely on Nyactis to get him through conversations about his sanity or potential lack thereof, but he still appreciates it.

“Telepathic,” Gladio snorts. “You really still believe in this stuff? You _saw_ Noctis in Hammerhead with the rest of us. He didn’t have fur or whiskers then.”

Prompto sighs. It seems like his two closest friends are still completely uninterested in trying to believe him. After he kissed Noctis on the Citadel steps, he had hoped…

“The two of you in the Dark World did seem… remarkably close,” Ignis comments, and Prompto glances up to find him looking thoughtful. His comment was, in fact, almost a challenge to what Gladio had said.

Prompto isn’t quite sure what to say. [Tell them whatever you want,] Nyactis encourages him.

“Well, yeah,” Prompto says. “We’ve been dating for like 8 years. Of course we were acting “close”.”

Gladio snorts, but Ignis puts a hand on his arm to forestall any further comments from him. Although Gladio is looking at Ignis in confusion and Prompto is looking at him in anticipation, he doesn’t seem to feel the weight of their glances. He ponders for a moment, eyebrows scrunched together. Then, he sighs.

Prompto realises - Ignis actually seems _nervous_. “By what method do you communicate with Noctis in your dreams?”

Gladio’s expression changes to disbelief, and Prompto’s to tightly contained hope. “Just let him sleep in the bed with you,” he says.

“Would you be willing to allow it?” Ignis says.

“Hey!” says Gladio.

Prompto’s small, muted smile breaks into a broader one. “What do you say, Noct?” To Ignis and Gladio he adds, “Short chirp is for yes, long meow is for no.”

Nyactis gives a short chirp, his gaze fixed on Ignis. He meows again, then jumps off the table and meows, twitching his tail in a “come here” gesture.

“He’s on the floor, twitching his tail at you to come here,” Prompto reports to Ignis, who looks startled. Nyactis meows again.

Still looking slightly lost, Ignis stands. Gladio remains seated, scowling. Nyactis runs to the doorway of the room and meows.

“Come on, Gladio,” Prompto encourages. Gladio lets out a huff of breath through his nose and stands. The three of them follow Nyactis out onto the beach, to where the sand is loose and dry, well above the tideline.

When they arrive Gladio just stares and Ignis just waits.

[Putting an old idea to the test,] Nyactis informs Prompto. Then, he starts swiping his paw through the sand. [I had to practice this. Cat paws were not made for writing.]

Prompto wants to laugh at Nyactis’s admission that he practised writing in the sand. Just _when_ he did that, Prompto has no idea. It is true, Nyactis is moving his body along with his paw to be able to write the letters in a way that isn’t jumbled.

“What is going on?” Ignis says.

“Cat’s writing something in the sand,” Gladio says grimly. Slightly alarmed by his tone, Prompto turns to see him glaring at Nyactis as if the beach is a religious site and he’s busy desecrating it, or something.

“He is _writing_ something?” Ignis echoes.

Nyactis steps back, revealing the word scrawled in loose, sandy, undeniable strokes.

N O C T I S

“It’s his damn name,” Gladio says. “Noctis.” He stares down at the word for a moment, shakes his head, and leaves. Prompto helplessly watches him walk back towards the dock.

[What the fuck was that,] Noctis thinks, sounding annoyed that this hasn’t gone completely to plan. But at least Ignis is still here, albeit completely silent.

Then, Ignis crouches, holding out his hand in the direction of the cat. Nyactis meows happily, trotting over for a pet. Prompto smiles. Gladio’s reaction notwithstanding, all is not lost.

Prompto smiles, amused and fond as Ignis picks Noctis up and cradles him in his arms. Noctis snuggles up against Ignis’s chest and raises his paws over Ignis’s shoulders in a familiar cat-hug gesture. He rubs his head underneath Ignis’s chin, and for a moment, there are tears in Ignis’s eyes.

⁂

When they go back inside the ex-resort, Gladio is nowhere to be found.

[He probably needs time,] Noctis comments. He’s sitting on Prompto’s shoulder again, because there’s only so much cat loving he can give to Ignis without overwhelming one or both of them. Prompto’s shoulder is a safe, emotionally neutral perch from which to survey his domain.

They don’t see Gladio for the rest of the day. Nyactis goes with Ignis to dreamshare with him as requested. Without Nyactis’s presence, which always helps him sleep better, Prompto has difficulty falling asleep. Eventually he hears footfalls in the hallway and knows that Gladio has reappeared and gone into the kitchen. Apparently, worrying over Gladio’s location was part of his sleeplessness, and he’s able to finally go to sleep once he hears Gladio’s bedroom door shut.

The next morning, Prompto finds Ignis sitting in the kitchens, seated at a table with a mug of Ebony in one hand. That in and of itself is not unusual. What is unusual is the fact that Ignis is not really drinking his coffee, just holding it in one hand while the other absently strokes a purring Nyactis’s fur.

There is an evident cat scratch on the back of Ignis’s left hand. Prompto is willing to bet that Ignis had his nose licked this morning, too.

[It went well,] Noctis informs Prompto as he enters. As he does so, Ignis rises.

“Prompto,” Ignis says, and his tone makes Prompto pause.

“Yeah?” he says, raising an eyebrow.

Ignis squares his shoulders. “I… I believe I owe you an apology.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Prompto says, waving it off. His heart is beating a little faster, though.

“No. I made a serious error in judgement, and you suffered because of it. I only hope you can understand that I - I was not - in a place to receive or comprehend the idea that the Noctis you saw every day was real. Words cannot express…” Ignis takes a deep breath. Prompto has tears in his eyes. “Words cannot express to you the depth of my sincerity. I am deeply sorry.”

[I tried to talk him out of being so dramatic,] Noctis says, which brings a smile to Prompto’s face even as he raises a hand to wipe away the tears that are forming. Of course, the comment was _designed_ to make him smile. Noctis knows him, too.

“It’s alright, Iggy. Noct and I both forgave you a long time ago.”

Prompto reaches out and clasps Ignis’s shoulder. Still looking downcast, Ignis surprises Prompto by clasping his hand between both of his and giving a gentle squeeze. This is something Prompto has only ever seen him do with Noctis in the past, and Prompto is touched.

“Thank you,” Ignis says, with feeling. “I hope it will be possible for me to meet with Noctis again in the future?”

“Ask Noctis. I’m not the boss of him,” Prompto says with a shrug.

“Although I acknowledge that he is Noctis, it is still difficult to speak seriously to a cat,” Ignis says, smiling ruefully. He turns to Nyactis anyway. “Noctis?”

Nyactis’s eyes narrow in amusement, and he chirps a yes in reply to Ignis’s question.

[Tell him that after ten years of being ignored I am not gonna pass up the chance to piss him off in his sleep whenever he comes to Galdin Quay, and there’s nothing he can do about it,] he thinks. Prompto holds back a laugh and relays the message.

“So one more thing,” Prompto says. “What are we gonna do about Gladio?”

Ignis’s forehead creases ever-so-slightly. “Ah. Gladio.”

⁂

Gladio will not speak to Prompto, disappearing onto the beach for long stretches of time and taking his meals in secret in his room or late at night. There’s a bitter atmosphere to Galdin Quay now, and Prompto doesn’t like it. This is his and Noctis’s haven. And though Gladio finally knows he wasn’t crazy all these years, things somehow are less okay than when Gladio _did_ think he was crazy.

[We gotta talk to him,] Noctis says, pacing around their bedroom. It’s morning, and Gladio hasn’t yet left the resort. Probably waiting for Prompto to take his meal and get out of the way first. With a sigh, Prompto goes to stand outside Gladio’s door with Nyactis at his side.

Prompto knocks. “Gladio?”

No reply.

“I know you’re in there.”

Still nothing, and Prompto knocks again.

“Come on, Gladio. We need to talk about this. For Noct.”

Gladio flings open the door, slamming it against the wall with a bang that makes Prompto and Noctis both jump. “What the hell is there to talk about?” Gladio snaps. “What kind of relationship am I supposed to have with a guy I can only talk to at night, who doesn’t even live in the same place as me, who’s also a fucking _cat_? I’m sworn to protect Noct, but how the hell am I supposed to do that now? I’m a Crownsguard, not a pet-sitter!”

By the end of this tirade, Nyactis is crouched low to the ground with tail lashing and ears flat against his head. [The monarchy is officially dissolved,] he thinks, sounding frustrated and annoyed.

Prompto sighs. “Do you think that’s not something I used to think about every day? I’m basically married to him, for Six’s sake. But we make it work, because we care about each other. I _know_ you care about him, Gladio. And he doesn’t need protecting anymore. Who’s gonna hurt a cat?”

“I. Am. Sworn. To. Protect. Him.” Gladio’s teeth are gritted.

[Tell him that technically my death released him from his obligation,] Nyactis says, eyes narrowing.

“His death released you from your obligation,” Prompto obediently relays. “Just ‘cuz he came back doesn’t mean that’s not true.”

“Well he wasn’t dead for 10 years in the Dark World, and I did fucking nothing then!” Gladio looks like he’s on the brink of slamming the door shut or walking away again.

But Prompto suddenly understands, and at the same time Noctis thinks, [Oh, shit. He thinks he was a bad Shield. He’s mad at himself for not protecting me.]

[Uh… what do I say?] Prompto thinks back.

“Well?” Gladio prompts angrily.

[Tell him if I died in the Dark World I would’ve just gone back into the Crystal so it’s not a big deal.]

“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. He says that if he died in the Dark World he would’ve just gone back into the Crystal. He was un-killable,” Prompto says. Gladio’s scowl grows blacker.

“That doesn’t fucking mean anything.” Gladio goes to close the door, but Prompto stops him by interposing his body between Gladio and the doorway.

[Tell him—] Noctis starts, but Prompto cuts him off. Looking up into Gladio’s fierce, hurt eyes, he says, “Don’t you think you should at least give him the chance to talk to you about it? You know, in a dream.”

Gladio sighs, then seems to deflate a little. “Whatever,” he mumbles. Nyactis takes this as an invitation to leap past the both of them into Gladio’s room. This time, when Gladio goes to close the door, Prompto lets him.

⁂

It takes all day, but finally Gladio stumbles from his bedroom, running a hand through his hair like he just woke up, but with bags under his eyes like he didn’t sleep at all.

“Coffee,” he grunts at Ignis and Prompto, who have been doing very, very quiet tasks like re-painting the walls in order to minimise any risk of cutting Gladio and Noctis’s conversation off by waking one of them up.

“It’s 8 PM, are you certain that’s wise?” Ignis asks.

Gladio glares. “Tea.”

It’s as Ignis is preparing the tea, and Prompto is trying to pretend like he is _intensely_ interested in this dinner plate he’s washing, that Nyactis simply appears in the room in that silent cat way of his. Prompto doesn’t have to turn his head to know that Nyactis is there - he can feel his mental presence.

[Well?] Prompto asks. He’s glad they only have to do this with two people, because he’s not a big fan of being kept out of the loop. Now that Ignis and Gladio both know, Noctis’s ability to only communicate with one person at a time is going to pose a lot of new challenges, that much is already clear.

[He wore me out,] Noctis complains, winding over to Prompto and rubbing up against his ankles. Prompto pets Nyactis, then picks him up. Nyactis doesn’t jump up to his customary perch on Prompto’s shoulder, but instead stays snuggled in his arms. Abandoning the dishes, Prompto turns to see Gladio receiving the mug of tea from Ignis. With a sigh, Gladio takes a sip.

[At least I didn’t have to figure out his right from my left this time,] Noctis says. It doesn’t seem like an appropriate moment to smile, so Prompto just scratches Noctis under the chin and lets the gesture comfort both of them.

Setting down his mug, Gladio turns to Prompto, looks him dead in the eyes, and says, “Okay, so how _do_ you live with him like this?”

Beside them, Ignis puts himself to the task of plating some leftovers for Gladio to eat. But Prompto can tell that he’s listening attentively all the same.

Prompto inhales. “Well… I won’t pretend it’s not hard. But it’s hard for both of us. We negotiate a lot of stuff. Most people can’t understand him during the day, and although we can do stuff that normal friends do, it’s annoying to be limited to only at night. But you know what? You have to forget about that. None of it matters. What matters is he’s here, alive, with us.”

Ignis is nodding, having set a plate in front of Gladio and stepped back. Gladio, too, is listening, although he still doesn’t look too pleased.

“If he got paralysed in combat, if he went blind-” Prompto looks pointedly at Ignis for Gladio’s benefit “-or deaf or lost an arm or something, we’d all just get over it and make accommodations and it’d be fine, right? So. It’s fine.”

[You’re passionate about this,] Noctis comments, starting to purr. Prompto blushes, because he hadn’t realised that about himself, although in hindsight it seems obvious.

“I need specifics. Practical stuff,” Gladio says. Prompto nods seriously, takes a breath, and takes Noctis over to the table for a crash course in Cat Language 101. Gladio and Ignis listen attentively, asking questions at times.

Later Noctis tells Prompto that in that first dream he shared with Gladio, he wasn’t able to get Gladio to calm down until after he conceded that Gladio should’ve known he really was Nyactis. Then he forgave him for not knowing. Gladio still seems angry about all the years he missed, but dreaming with Nyactis and listening to Prompto talk about his relationship with him - it’s a start.

Near the end of the conversation, Gladio comments, “I bet Noct’s been slacking on training. Lazy cat.”

Prompto grins, and his expression is pure mischief. “Training, huh? Oh, he trains.”

[STOP,] Noctis warns him.

Prompto grins wider. “It’s time to show you the cat toy collection.”

⁂

For the remainder of Gladio and Ignis’s stay at Galdin Quay, Noctis alternates spending time with each of them at night. The day is a little awkward, as only Prompto can understand anything Noctis thinks and insists that Ignis and Gladio each learn to communicate with Nyactis via the old meow language they used in the Dark World. But honestly? Both Prompto and Noctis are over the moon that their wildest dreams from the Dark World days have come true. Ignis and Gladio _believe_.

When they leave, the two of them agree they feel more bereft than they had expected. Now that everybody’s on board with the whole “Noctis is a cat” thing, it seems a shame that the group is split up. They don’t plan on leaving their paradise at Galdin Quay in permanence, but maybe a weekend in Insomnia is soon to be in order…

“You did amazing,” Noctis tells Prompto in a dream set randomly at Myrlwood.

“It was easier than I thought,” Prompto says with a shrug. And it’s true. If he had expected talking about Noctis’s truth to be hard after all those years of doubt, well… he must have reached some kind of zen soul completion because it honestly wasn’t.

“So,” Noctis says, raising an eyebrow, “what you said about us being “basically married”…”

Prompto bites his lip. “Do you wanna? for real?”

Noctis sighs. There is a pause as he shifts his weight from side to side, folding his arms before saying, “Dude. I’m a cat. No one is gonna marry you to a cat.”

“We could exchange rings and stuff though,” Prompto says gently, not to be deterred.

“Do you… _want_ to, though? You know this is the point of no return?”

Prompto laughs. “Dude, we passed that point years ago when I decided I liked you more than sanity. I think I can handle a little wedding.”

“But do you _want_ to?”

“Babe, if this were a normal relationship, I would’ve married you already,” Prompto informs him, taking ahold of his hands. “I want to wear your ring. I want us to be together forever. I don’t care what anyone thinks.”

Noctis blushes, looking away. “Okay,” he says quietly. “You know I want that too.”

⁂

Although pre-Dark-World businesses are already starting to reassert themselves, it’s difficult to find someone as specialised as a traditional jeweller. Fortunately, Prompto remembers a blacksmith-type guy in Lestallum who used to make rings out of scrap metals for free for any couple who wanted a pair. A few phone calls later and soon they are receiving two identical rings made out of old nails from the Galdin Quay resort. They asked for Noctis’s real ring size and everything.

They set a date. Although they both agree it would be awkward to have witnesses for their ring exchange, since only Prompto can hear Noctis, they invite Ignis and Gladio for the “reception”.

The day they chose dawns not bright and clear, but with rain over the sea. They watch it as they eat breakfast, undaunted because they remember a time when rain, too, was invisible in the dark.

[You don’t want to put this off until tomorrow, do you?] Noctis asks, watching the rain.

“No,” Prompto says simply. If it is to the gentle rush of rain on the roof as it falls in a silver sheet beyond the open railings of their home that they will come together to say their vows, so be it. The sound of the water will be the only music their union needs.

They have decided to get ready for the event separately, so Nyactis grabs a brush from the bathroom in his mouth and vanishes. Prompto puts on not a suit, too formal for such a private occasion, but his nicest casual outfit. He gives Nyactis some time to get ready, then opens the bedroom door.

When he leaves the bedroom and comes out onto the main landing, he sees that someone has decorated the entire landing with garlands and bouquets of wildflowers overnight. The hills must be bare for miles, there are so many.

_Thank you Ignis, thank you Gladio_.

And then - _there_. The flowers part, and there is Nyactis, beautifully groomed, sitting on a table next to the small fabric pouches that hold their rings, purple for Prompto and blue for Noctis.

Prompto feels the emotions swell up in his throat and they haven’t even started their vows yet.

“I love you so much,” he says hoarsely, and Nyactis looks away.

[Stop, I haven’t even said anything yet.] His mental voice, too, is moved.

Prompto clears his throat, and the two of them get themselves under control.

“Noct…” Prompto says softly, picking up the blue ring bag.

[You’re going first?]

“Please.”

[Okay…] Noctis looks at him, eyes narrowing in fondness, and Prompto hears the anticipation in his voice.

Prompto takes a deep breath. “Noct,” he says again. “Words are kinda useless to try and explain how I feel about you, but I’m gonna try. You’re my first friend and my best friend, and being with you for the rest of my life is literally all my dreams come true.” He has to pause and breathe out through his nose. “I promised a long time ago that I’d be ever at your side. And I meant it. So let me promise to you again: I will love you literally forever. I love you more than reality - a little thing like time isn’t going to stop me. I’m yours.”

As Prompto speaks, Nyactis is quiet, watching Prompto with wide eyes. As Prompto finishes, he can tell from their mental connection that if cats could cry, Nyactis would be overflowing by now. Hands almost shaking, Prompto takes the ring from the bag. It’s hung on a silver chain, which he clasps around Nyactis’s neck. Nyactis looks into his eyes, lifts a paw, and gently presses against Prompto’s face. Prompto lets out a watery laugh and begins to smile.

[Thank you,] Noctis thinks as the clasp clicks into place, and the words carry so much emotion Prompto knows he isn’t just thanking him for the ring.

Putting his paw on the other ring bag, Noctis thinks, [I know our situation is weird. But I want to spend every day of the rest of my life making you feel loved and worthy however I can. Whether I’m a cat or I’m a human, if I turn into a fish or a bird or something. I’ll always be there for you.]

Noctis takes a deep mental breath, then says a line from the traditional Lucian wedding vows: [You are the flame that lights my way, and I will carry you in darkness. That’s my promise to you. I’m yours, too.]

To indicate he’s done, Nyactis slides the bag across the table to Prompto, then dips his head, his tail lashing with emotion. Taking the ring, Prompto puts it onto his finger and holds it out for Nyactis to see.

Nyactis touches his nose to Prompto’s hand and blinks, while Prompto realises he’s now grinning like a lunatic. He can’t help it.

[Well, guess we’re fake married now,] Noctis thinks and Prompto laughs. For a moment, he desperately wishes human Noctis were there so he could kiss him.

Instead, he scoops Nyactis up into his arms. Nyactis squirms, meows, and then, having settled himself, touches his paw to Prompto’s face again.

“You just said you’re mine, and don’t you forget it,” Prompto says, smiling down on him like an idiot.

When he sets Nyactis down on the ground, Nyactis shoves his chest forward to show off the ring dangling from its chain. [Look, a piece of jewellery that doesn’t want to kill me.]

“Looking good, babe,” Prompto says fondly, kneeling to get a closer look.

[Yeah, I know,] Noctis says, and Prompto smiles again. He just can’t seem to stop.

After a bit more banter is exchanged, they go to find Ignis and Gladio to share a few drinks with them, to celebrate together. But in a way, this ring exchange isn’t over. It won’t be over until tonight, when they can meet in their dreams. But that’s how their lives work: they’ll always be divided into two realms. But the love that flows between them is constant, and they both meant every word they said. That’s why this relationship works. That’s why it’s _real_.

⁂

In the dream that night, Prompto finds himself in a surreal field of flowers, just flowers and flowers as far as the eye can see with no gaps between them, soft and lush and colourful and beautiful. A light rain is falling, but the air is warm enough that he doesn’t mind. It’s a place that doesn’t exist in any country or in any movie, a place that Noctis has made for their dreams.

And there’s Noctis himself, wearing a _suit_ and -

Prompto stops.

From Noctis’s left hand, a silver band gleams. The ring has transferred to his body in the dream, and it’s not around his neck, it’s actually on his finger.

Prompto laughs, breathless and smiling again.

“Hey, good lookin’,” Prompto says, wiggling his eyebrows. “You get all dressed up just for me?”

“You know it,” says Noctis, equally playful. “Look at this.” He holds up his hand. “Don’t get too close. I’m a committed man now.”

“Did your partner get you that?”

“He sure did.”

“That sure was nice of him, huh?”

It’s Noctis’s turn to laugh as Prompto approaches him. Taking Noctis’s hand, Prompto places a tender kiss on his knuckle just underneath the ring. Bringing Noctis’s hand up to cup his cheek, he tilts his head to kiss it again, then lets Noctis take over and naturally hold Prompto there. His thumb strokes gently over Prompto’s lower lip. Prompto kisses his thumb.

And then, sighing Prompto’s name, Noctis leans in and kisses Prompto on the lips. Their eyes flutter closed.

A raindrop lands on Noctis’s head, gleaming like a diamond amid the black silk of his hair. Below their feet, a rainbow of petals waves gently in the summer air, as if they might take wing and fly away.

When Noctis at last lowers Prompto down to rest among the blooms, they find them to be just as soft as they look. With every touch that lights Prompto’s body from within, every passionate kiss that makes him sigh and makes him burn, Noctis shows him all the love that he promised to give. Completes the vows he made when they were awake. Makes it real, _again_.


	4. Epilogue

For the rest of his life, Prompto will be known as that weird guy with the quirk of always having the same black cat with blue eyes, who he’s pun-named after his dead best friend. That cat should have been dead 20 years ago, but it’s still here and kicking - or at least Prompto _claims_ it’s the same one. There is much speculation as to whether it actually is. Prompto’s respected for his service in the Dark World, but he knows that behind his back, everyone is saying it made him go a little funny in the head. Prompto doesn’t give one single, solitary shit. He spends his days _and_ his nights with the love of his life.

Prompto kinda wishes they could have kids, but not with Noctis like this, so instead they become the best uncle and the best uncle cat ever to Gladio’s biological kids and Ignis’s adopted ones. Noctis actually manages a few dreams to play with the little ones before they grow too old to believe in the fairy tale of a cat who is really a man that no one else believes in.

As for Ignis and Gladio, they never gain the ability to hear Noctis’s telepathy. But this, Prompto and Noctis both believe, is probably a good thing. The chaos of a mental group chat would be too much for any of their small mortal minds to handle.

For the most part… they’re all happy.

And so they grow old.

⁂

On the day Prompto dies, Nyactis dies too, his fur finally tinged with grey. They’re buried in the same coffin at the behest of Prompto’s will. His friends would have done the same, regardless. To separate the two inseparable friends (and to the two who know their secret, lovers of a sort) with even an inch of dirt would have been cruel.

The day after he dies, Prompto wakes up lying in a grassy field. Ordinary ornamental green grass, short-cropped, a few rocks. He’s wearing his old red tank top and - if he’s not mistaken - he has the body to match, young and healthy. He looks around. He recognises the cemetery, but there are no gravestones. That’s because here, nobody is dead.

“See you finally woke up,” someone says. He looks up. It’s Noctis, in human form, sitting on a rock, idly playing with a leaf. He looks about twenty. The grin he gives Prompto is impish. “Guess what? We’re in the astral world.”

Prompto’s jaw drops. “We’re in the afterlife?” Death was inevitable for a person as old as Prompto had grown in the mortal world, and he isn’t surprised that _that_ happened. He knew the afterlife existed, but he hadn’t expected it to feel so…

Well. Prompto is an expert on dreams and unreal places, and this doesn’t feel like that at all. It’s just like the mortal world was in many respects - the sight of the grass, vivid and green, the scent of earth surrounding him, the feeling of the soft caress of the breeze on his arms. But it has a sort of atmosphere that’s like nothing he’s ever known. It’s calm, like an invisible blanket of comfort is woven into the air. He gets the sense that nothing bad can happen here. In a way, it’s almost luxurious, like the feeling of a good, long stretch, or a long, cold drink of water.

“Yeah. We made it. We’re here.” Noctis hops off the rock and reaches down a hand to pull Prompto to his feet. He gives Prompto a quick kiss and a smile.

“What,” Prompto asks, “we just hang out here for the rest of eternity?”

“Not eternity, but we have as much time as we want,” Noctis explains. “And it’s not like the dream world. Other people we know are here too. Luna. My dad.”

“Eternity and having as much time as we want are practically the same thing,” Prompto says thoughtfully, and Noctis nods.

“And look,” Noctis says, grinning widely and spreading out his arms. “No more cat.”

“No more cat?” Prompto says, staring. Noctis isn’t a cat. In this wonderful place, _he will never be a cat again_.

“No more cat!” Prompto yells, grabbing Noctis by the shoulders and dancing around. “No more cat!”

He’s laughing, and Noctis is too. “No more cat!” Noctis chants with him. The excited whooping only breaks off when Prompto surges forward and kisses Noctis passionately on the lips.

“Aww,” Prompto says, wiping a tear from his eye as he calms down. “I kinda miss the furry little guy. I know we’re dead but… do you think we can adopt?”

Noctis thinks. “Animal spirits come here too, so… probably.”

No sooner has he said this, than from behind the rock Noctis was sitting on totters a small ball of black fur. It looks at the two of them, giving a chirp. As soon as Prompto sees its too-blue eyes, he knows.

“Oh, gods,” he says, dropping to his knees and holding out his arms. The cat meows again and runs into his arms, rubbing its face on his chin and purring profusely. Cradling the cat as if it were a precious child, Prompto gets to his feet.

“It’s Nyactis,” he says, awed.

“What are you talking about?” Noctis says. “I’m right here.”

“No, I mean… you became a cat by sharing the body of a real, normal cat, right? This is him. I’d recognise him anywhere.”

Noctis scrutinises the cat for a moment, then reaches out and starts petting it.

“Guess he needs a new name, since he isn’t me anymore,” Noctis says, scratching the cat under the chin. “He’s so cute.” He sounds charmed, and Prompto smiles at how cute _Noctis_ is. He doesn’t need to be fuzzy for that to be true, although being a cat definitely helped him in the charisma department.

“We could call him Junior, like Noctis Junior…” Prompto suggests.

“Technically he’s Senior, ‘cause he was a cat before I was.”

“We can’t call our cat Senior,” Prompt says, appalled. Noctis laughed.

“Nox?”

“Too unoriginal,” Prompto says immediately.

“Uh… Catty McCatface??”

“Now you’re just saying stuff!” Prompto exclaims, bursting into laughter.

Laughing, still bickering over cat names, they leave the place-of-no-graves together. With one lifetime and the strangest possible love story behind them, they are ready to begin again. They will keep all the positive ingredients from their old lives - their love, their happiness, and an adorable kitty cat. But now, the strands of day and night, mind and body, will weave together to form an existence of unlimited possibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fellas is it weird if you adopt the spirit of the dead cat whose body your boyfriend’s soul once inhabited
> 
> OMG, I can't believe I wrote this. I never expected to write a story with a premise like this (nor to take it so seriously, haha). I can't decide if this is a masterpiece or if I should find the whole thing hilarious. Also this is my first big bang. Ever. I really hope everyone liked the story!
> 
> Comments always welcome!


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